Unlucky 13: The Next Doctor's Case

1:1 Gallifrey Stands

The Doctor stared intensely at his read out. There- simultaneously- was the empty, bare, cold space where Gallifrey once stood, and the bright, vibrant, beautiful visage of his home planet. Two time streams lead together by 13 incarnations of the same Time Lord converging at the same place. Only the other 12 didn't know he was there.

It had taken him nearly 200 years to complete the calculation, but he figured out what had needed to be done. A miniscule temporal collapse between the pocket universe and their own, milliseconds after the time lock in his own time stream. Simple. Clever. Brilliant. Fantastic. Finally, the Doctor would have his home planet back. Gallifrey- with its lakes of singing fish and seas of red grass- would be saved.

Of course there was more to it than that. The Daleks. Oh, how he had dealt with them. But you all know that story by now. The important thing is that there was no more threat of a Time War between the Daleks and the Time Lords. Things could go back to the way they should be. Just one simple little perfectly timed pressing of a button.

And the Moment came. The Doctor flipped the Helmic Regulator and smashed as hard as he could on the Senteptic Cross Regulator. He watched as the silent energy engulfed the other Type 40 TARDISes. His past selves had no idea what was about to happen. In a bright flash, Gallifrey disappeared and the imposing Dalek fleets wiped each other out in a hellfire. The Doctor pressed on the Carbonium Nitropolimate plated Criptikalion Generator. The residual Void energy filled the rift between the Doctors TARDISes and radiated outwards. Just quick enough, for in the proceeding seconds each of the past TARDISes blinked back into their own timelines.

The Doctor briefly paused as he thought about all the pain and torment his past selves had just caused themselves without doing anything really wrong. He had to remind himself that when he regenerated he owed it to himself to allow his Warrior incarnation to join his others in his time stream. The War Doctor. What a great man. He had been a good man before that, but the War Doctor was Doctor above them all.

He blinked himself back into the present. The residual Void energy reached Gallifrey's coordinates. Slowly, the red hue of the great planet blinked…once…twice… and finally roared back into existence. Without delay, from its atmosphere burst what must have been hundreds of Type 103 Battle TARDISes. Surely to welcome him back into the fold. Perhaps some old friends…no doubt seeing her face would add unending joy.

Tears poured from the Doctor's old, weary eyes. A shame Ariel couldn't be here to witness this. She was a brave young lass, but fragile. Despite the many times she had helped him, this sight would have been too much for her primitive brain. The joy of seeing his old home would have been enjoyed, for now, in solitude. But it was there! Eleven hundred years without her. Six hundred thinking she had been destroyed along with his family, friends, the children, strangers he didn't even know. In total honesty, the next three hundred had been spent trying to ensure he wouldn't die- which to be fair happened purely by good fortune. But the ends justified his means- to bring back Gallifrey. And the final two hundred, agonizing, drawn out years, putting all the final pieces together, working out the equations, doing the science. Fighting off more than a few Daleks, Cybermen, Abzorboloffs, Weeping Angels. Losing Clara. Gaining Ariel. Losing Ariel. All of this pain was made worth it. He could see silver forests, snow capped mountains…he swore he could see Lungbarrow, his old home.

It was all too over whelming. So long looking. So long in pain. Longer in pain without Gallifrey than with it. He collapsed against the center console. Tears of joy showered from his eyes. He had cried many good cry in his long life, his two thousand years. Losing Rose, sweet Rose. Having to leave poor Donna. Saying good-bye to the Ponds. Losing River without even knowing who she really was to him. Watching Clara….go. Having to explain to Ariel why he couldn't take her with him. All had forced a river of tears from his old eyes. None could compare to the onslaught coming out of him now. But this was different. Yes there was joy, but there was hurt. Remembrance of the pain that got him here.

It was odd, cause at the moment the humming and whizzing of TARDIS grew quieter. As if she knew he needed a few moments to collect himself. Suddenly the cool steel became a warm, welcoming touch to his aged, frail skin.

It was short lived. The phone rang, and he had an idea of who it must've been.

"Doctor."

"Sorry, wrong number." The Doctor joked.

"Doctor this is Commander Padrock of Chancellery Guard."

"Oh, a Commander? I thought an action like this would at least warrant a visit from The Castellan, or a Lord Cardinal!" The Doctor proclaimed with playful indignation.

"Doctor, your presence is required at the High Council, immediately."

"Oh, you Time Lordy's you. Haven't lost an ounce of charm. You are, oddly enough, the most beautiful voice I've heard in an overwhelmingly long time, Commander."

"We are sending you the coordinates now, Doctor."

The call dropped unceremoniously and coordinates blipped onto the Doctor's view screen. Nothing was thought of it from his point of view. The Chancellery Guard had always been tight walkers with no real sense of humor. He did feel bad though that he actually wanted the applause he knew he was going to get from the High Council. He wanted them to acknowledge how much he was needed. He needed them to bow to him. It was a terrible reason to want to see them again, but hey- they wanted to destroy all existence at one point, so…no harm no foul.

The Doctor punched in the coordinates and dropped the Transversal Transmiter into 4th gear. The sweet sounds of the parking brakes radiated about him as the TARDIS danced into the High Council Chambers. Looking in the mirror, he tidied up. Rolling down his sleeves and throwing his overcoat back on, he had to think momentarily before he decided against wearing a bowtie. He bent down and wiped a little residual dust off his Doc Martin's and checked his breath. You never know who could be there. He grabbed his lapels in confident victory then strode out onto the promenade facing the High Council.

The clicking of the Chancellery Guards guns pointing at him was deafening. Shouting came from all sides- militaristic commands from various Sergeants, Captains and Commanders; shout of indignation from the Council itself. His hearts pounded, eyes widened. Looking around, he knew something was dreadfully wrong. A daring Commander stepped out and shouted above the rest.

"Doctor, by order of the High Council of Gallifrey, I order you to surrender your sonic device, lay the key to your TARDIS on the floor in front of you and place you hands behind your head!"

"What is the meaning of this? Don't you know who I am?"

"Doctor, I will tell you again- by order of the High Council of Gallifrey, I order you to surrender your sonic device, lay the key to your TARDIS on the floor in front of you and place your hands behind your head!"

"Why should I do that? I rescued you! I saved Gallifrey! I defeated the Daleks in two different ways! I ENDED THE TIME WAR!"

"Doctor, I repeat- by…"

"By what? By the order of who? Who thought that arresting the man who saved Gallifrey was a nice thing to do."

"I did, Doctor." A deep, booming, commanding voice echoed from the High Chancellor's seat. "An 'saving' Gallifrey is a corruption of the term, Doctor."

The self righteous authority in his voice was unmistakable. A man who should be trusted yet was untrustable. A man who would use the entirety of the Universe for his own means.

"Rassilon," The Doctor's whispery voice hissed in his deep Scottish brogue "I would've thought you had been deposed."

"Deposed? No. Granted immutable power by the Military Council and the High Council…why yes."

It was obvious he had regenerated. He was younger, a square jaw supplementing his bass voice to give him complete command of the room.

"We know, Doctor, all of your evil deeds. You may have survived the Time War. But what you did outside of it is unforgiveable."

"What do you mean? I've done nothing but help the Universe survive without the Time Lords. For over a thousand years, I've been the sole guardian against Dalek, Cyberman, Sontaran…"

"Passionate words cannot hide your misdeeds Doctor. For we have been shown your true nature by a man whose loyalty is unfathomable."

Without missing a beat, the Master stepped in from the shadows.

"Yes, Doctor. How many times must you destroy all of the Daleks before you prove a point? And why were you so reluctant to tell us your real name back on Trenzalore?"

"You know my real name- Koschei!" The Doctor shouted.

"That isn't the point Doctor." Rassilon boomed.

"Yes. Any man unwilling to share his real name with his own race is a man I wouldn't be willing to trust."

"And a man who hasn't changed his hoodie in centuries is?" The Doctor retorted.

"Sorry, been busy helping to run the planet you so conveniently locked away so you could continue to wreak havoc on our Universe."

"Lords and Ladies of the High Council, this has been presented to you all wrong!" the Doctor shouted.

"Lest we forget, it was the Doctor's failure to destroy the Daleks that started the Time War in the first place!" The Master said, smiling, arms outstretched to the pleas of the High Council.

"I had no choice! They hadn't done anything wrong yet!"

"An evil not yet done is still an evil waiting to happen, yes?" The Master challenged.

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you- Master?"

"Watch how you speak to this man, this vaunted member of our society. Koschei, the Master, has helped keep Gallifrey from being run into the ground while we sat in that pocket Universe. He kept order, justice and decency amongst the Plebeians whilst you darted from Galaxy to Galaxy doing as you wished!"

"You don't understand! I didn't…"

"Enough! This man has disobeyed your orders, Commander. Deal with him!" Rassilon boomed.

Thinking quickly, the Doctor whipped his Sonic Screwdriver out of his pocket. Clicking it to setting 405, he twisted around on his heels, causing the earpieces in all of the soldiers' helmets to emit a high frequency pitch directly into their ears. He quickly ran towards his friend, his soldier, his home…the TARDIS. His old, beautiful, banged up girl. His refuge. He was safe in her. He could only run. His mind buzzed with what was happening. He didn't even register the lucky shot to his back at first. Simply, instinctively, he Soniced the doors closed. This was going to be a rough one. He had to think quickly. His mind could only think of one planet he knew well. He adjusted the Helmic regulator, set the Positronic thrusters to maximum output, reversed the polarity of the neutron flow and kicked the TARDIS into high gear. She knew what to do. Find someplace safe…out of the way. Somewhere he could regenerate with little to no incident. Someplace the Time Lords wouldn't think to look.

"All that I've done and it comes to this! Shunned by the people I've spent lifetimes trying to save!"

He looked as the glow drew out from his hands.

"Still. I feel no hatred. Anything worth having is worth fighting for. And home is worth fighting for. But still…"

The regeneration took hold of him. His chest thrust back as the glow shot out from his head quickly, but all too painfully. A coughing fit over took him and he expelled a bit of excess temporal energy.

Step one: Analyze. He looked around. The regeneration was more powerful than he had previously though. Nothing was one fire, thankfully, but things were shaking awfully violently. He stumbled across the control room to the nearest door- restroom number 7. Opening the door, he leapt to the mirror, took hold of the sink and looked slowly up at the mirror.

Amidst all the horrible things happening- being rejected and outlawed by his own people despite saving them, another regeneration and the possibility of a crash landing- he smiled. A big, awkward toothy grin as he realized that he was finally ginger. Violently, he convulsed. As he felt the old girl plummeting to the coordinates she had set, he expelled a large amount of energy, and then collapsed on the ground unconscious.