"The doctor... no more."

That was all the newly regenerated time lord could utter over and over while he gazed at the Tardis. He stood at the edge of the open doorway, watching the faintly glowing centre column hum with power as it resonated throughout the dimensionally transcendental craft.

Crashing on the planet of Karrn, earlier, in his previous incarnation (surviving only due to outside influences), he felt that this new body was an unholy act of creation. The sisterhood of Karrn; the ones that aided the time lord and held his life force long enough to regenerate, gave him a magical brew (the elixir of the eternal flame). It forced his body (already on the brink of death) to produce a new, slightly altered, regeneration. It transformed his mind and personality to that of a cunning warrior. Something that the doctor always thought he was, but with this... perhaps it would be more aggressive.

What they (the sisters), sought from him was to join the struggle of the on-going Time War; A fierce battle between the Daleks and the Time Lords threatening all existence everywhere. To the sisterhood, and all those who get in the path of this never ending conflict, the Doctor is their only hope. A man who stands for neither side, but seeks to help the rest of the universe to get out of harm's way.

The Doctor closed his eyes. He tired to hear and feel the flow of time and space. All Timelords of his world were able to achieve this kind of symbiosis, a way to guide themselves though the fabric of it, and maintain balance within. All he could feel now was pain, and the cries of people begging for help; They came from the past, the present, and of course, the future. It was overwhelming.

"Is there anything more you need from us, Timelord?"

The doctor slowly opened his eyes, the voice of high priestess snapped the man out of his trance.

"No..." he uttered. Turning around, he saw the aged woman peering at him beyond the threshold of the Tardis. "Nothing more from you do I require, dear madam."

She nodded at his answer, but, hesitated slightly as she caught his bewildered face. 

"The change will take time, be patient..."

"I've done this before," He stated coldly. "Regenerations, a lifetime of them... over and over... nothing ever changes, other than the face that is."

"Not like this," She said. "Timelords reject our mystical science. Our ways are not the same as theirs."

"Very true." He snickered. "Nevertheless, I will adapt, dear madam... I will adapt."

She nodded again and raised her hands in a traditional prayer; eyes covered and head bowed.

"Watch over this one great mother, let it be by your hand to help guide his path and protect him from all harm. Now, Timelord... go with great speed and save us. May the flame of eternal life be in your hearts...."

"Quite literally, it seems..."

She seemed irked by that response by him. A glib bit of ungrateful sarcasm that besmirched the prayer she gave. The priestess scowled and lowered her hands.The Doctor snickered from his own words, and hers, he leaned against the door of the Tardis and folded his arms.

"So that's it then is it?" He continued to mock, wincing at her suspiciously. "A feeble prayer, a new body and off you go into hell. Nothing more, hmm? Not even a peck on the cheek to see me on my way, eh?"

The high priestess ignored his playful attitude and approached him with a stern eye. She knew he was still hesitant. Having dealt with his former selves in chance meetings (few that they were), she tried to see past his usual comedic nature. Instead of catering to it further she handed him an object.

"You know what you must do and where you must go. So take this and always remember who you are."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The Doctor's obtuse attitude soon switched off. The smirk on his face disappeared as he took hold of the instrument handed to him. It was his sonic screwdriver. It must have fallen out of his pocket during the crash; it was burnt and slightly damaged, but it still managed to function as he activated it. The sound of its low, pulsing hum brought back a flood of memories of his previous lives.

Closing his eyes once more, he brought the screwdriver up to his left ear, and grinned with delight. It had been a constant in his life, much like the Tardis was. Whispered voices of past companions called his name, so many they almost drowned each other out.

But, as quick as those pleasant sounds entered his mind, the voices of all his old enemies came; they cursed at him, and shouted his name with vile hatred. His smile disappeared and the reality of his life suddenly donned on him.

"Doctor... who?" He stated, opening his eyes. "That is real question, isn't it? No longer a healer of time's wounds, or at least mending the tattered bits... now, I'm just another warrior, inflicting more of them."

The regenerated man placed the sonic device into the inner pocket of his dark leather coat. His hand accidentally tapped on the pocketed belt-sash slung across his chest; It belonged to the Earth woman, Cass, his temporary companion. Her death was his fault (or so he believed). Having come aboard during her spaceship's fall into Karrn's orbit, The Doctor tried to help her escape. She refused it, remaining on board (with him), as it slammed onto the surface. She hated the Time Lords for starting this war and ignoring the universe's cry for help against the Daleks. The Doctor's kind were only concerned about saving the time streams and stopping the enemy at all cost. Even if that meant letting millions upon millions perish as a result.

"To become a weapon, instead of a hand of peace..." he uttered. "Yes, I am no longer what I once was."

The Doctor gave slight inhale, wiped his nose briefly and straightened his posture. The sisterhood, standing in a group far behind the priestess, chanted prayers of the sacred flame, they all bowed as he took notice of them. Showing respect, the man bowed to them in kind.

"The time war must end." The priestess stated as she backed away from the Tardis. "A good man must become a good warrior if it is to be won. But always, remember, you are both; The Doctor and The Warrior, one and the same."

"Doctor Warrior" the Time Lord snickered. "What shall the universe think of me now, eh? I suppose it's only fitting, all things considering."

The high priestess said nothing to his comment. Once again she merely gazed deeply at him and raised her right hand, the conversation was over and his delay was too obvious. The Doctor sighed again and nodded in realization that the time to go had come. With a simple, yet comedic, innocent wave to the sisterhood behind, he retreated back into the Tardis and closed the door.

The women regrouped together with the priestess and watched the blue police box as it's top light flickered on and off.

The familiar (yet haunting sound) of it taking off echoed in the air. As it faded out of existence, and into the spacetime continuum, one of the younger sisters from the back approached the priestess with concern.

"You did not tell him of the vision, High Sister? You know the day... the day he will fall..."

The elderly priestess closed her eyes to young woman's words. She shook her head negatively in response. The young woman gawked at her with confusion.

"But why, high one? He should know of the coming storm that awaits him."

"No sister, you do not understand. He is the oncoming storm." The woman said, opening her eyes to the young follower. "The universe and all of time will turn to flame by his hand. Galifrey, the Daleks, all that threaten existence shall not be spared."

"He will be alone." The young woman lamented, "Should he survive the end."

The high priestess placed her hands onto the woman's shoulders and comforted her. She could see the young woman had a wealth of pity for the troublesome Time Lord. The High Sister priestess then took the young one's chin, raised it up slightly and peered at her with a gentle nature.

"He will survive, child. That one, above all other Timelords, has the ability to sidestep death when it comes."

**********

As the Tardis spun wildly, tossing about in the time-space vortex, the doctor stood at the console fiddling with the numerous switches and levers. As always, his mind was at a feverish pitch when piloting the complicated craft. But a moment of hesitation suddenly came upon him, his hand paused, and a look of confusion washed over his face.

"Where to start? Where to go? I haven't the slightest idea..." The Doctor eyes darted about as he tried to think of a destination. "Perhaps I need to talk to someone, other then myself, that is." He mused. "Someone that knows a thing or two about how to fight... or at the very least, get in the middle of one. Yes, that's the kind of help I need, warrior to warrior."

Slamming down hard on one of the levers, the man gave a sharp laugh as the Tardis column pumped faster with a loud roar of power.The police box spun faster and faster through the vortex, and shifted in a new direction for it to fall into.

*********

At quaint cottage home, on the outskirts of London...

The Doctor, cleaned up with some new clothes, other than the same darkly weather beaten leather jacket; knocked vigorously onto the beautifully decorative oak door. As it opened, the Timelord grinned with delight at the male occupant.

"Yes?" the man said. "Can I help you?"

"I was hoping you'd ask that," The Doctor smiled again, "My dear Lethbridge-Stewart."