Doctor Who: Equestrian Chronicles Series 1

Dedicated to John Pertwee

“Where are you, Dalek…” the Doctor mumbled, “I know you’re hiding here, somewhere…”

He leaned towards the computer screen and opened up a map of the building. The screen zoomed into the floor below him. He pressed a combination of keys, flipping through different cameras, until he found what he was looking for.

“What are you up to?” the Doctor asked himself. The camera zoomed onto the Dalek. It was obviously up to something. But what?

The Doctor flipped on the computer’s volume. The Dalek’s voice blared from the speakers.

“DALEK SCOUT REPORTING!” it shouted, “THIS WORLD IS PRIMATIVE, AND STANDS NO CHANCE AGAINST THE DALEK ARMY! PREPARE TO INVADE!”

He groaned, “Oh, come ON! Again?”

Even here… Most likely the most peaceful planet in the cosmos.

The Doctor cracked his knuckles, “Alright, then. If you think this planet has no chance, you’ve got another thing coming.”

====

Bam! Bam!

A weevil fell to its knees, uttering one final screech. Guardian reloaded his shotgun and let out a breath of relief.

“Alright, Twilight,” he gestured her to come with his hoof, “The coast is clear.”

Twilight trotted to Guardian. “How much further until we get to this armory?”

“Should only be past that corridor,” he pointed towards a dark hallway.

“Of course,” Twilight sighed, “More corridors.”

====

“Lets see… Daleks have no weakness, but what if…” the Doctor smacked his forehead, “How can I stop this fleet.”

“Who’s there!” a familiar voice called out, followed by two gunshots.

“Hey!” he scowledi

, “Careful! You could shoot your eye out with that thing!”

A red unicorn stepped from the shadows.

“Oh, its you!” the Doctor grinned, “Ol’ mister trigger happy!”

“Doctor,” Guardian nodded, “Good to know someone made it.”

He turned his head and shouted, “Twilight, it’s your companion!”

“What?” the Doctor demanded, “For your information, it’s the other way around!”

“Hello, Doctor,” Twilight stepped into view, “I missed you.”

“Aw I missed you to,” he smiled back at her, “So, where y’all going?”

Guardian looked at the door several feet away, “An armory is just ahead. We can arm ourselves there.”

Kick

The door broke down. Guardian rushed in and began to arm himself.

“I always wondered,” Guardian levitated a small, blue object, “How does this work?”

“It’s an ocarina,” the Doctor replied, lifting up a device he deemed broken, “The big question is: Where did you get this stuff?”

“Celestia started the DAEL industry a decade ago,” Guardian explained, “It Was because of an artifact scientist’s found. It created a swirl of light, like a storm, and would allow us to capture alien life and technology. Of course we had to take advantage of it! Think of what we learned!”

“Swirling light?” the Doctor stroked his chin thoughtfully, “Sounds like an upgraded time storm from the Sontarans. It could. They disbanded the idea and shot the project into space because it made war ‘un-honorable’. Like it ever was.”

He turned and picked up a small gun and pocketed the devise, “Oh, a square-ness gun! That’ll come in handy.”

“The thing is,” Guardian admitted, “I liked the job simply because I had some sort of authority. I wasn’t really liked as a child due to my accent.

“A chula syringe,” the Doctor cringed, “Nah, the nanogenes aren’t programmed for ponies, don’t want anymore ‘gasmask zombies’.”

“Are you even hearing me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he shook his head, “It’s like a store, filled with free samples of nostalgia! It’s like Ikea. By the way, there were so many free samples one time, I had supper there, didn’t even need any money!”

“Is he always ranting like this?”

“Of course!” the Doctor shouted, “What’s the point of being able to talk if you if I can’t talk on and on and on?”

He looked into the map on the computer, and, “So that area, what is it for?”

“That is the storage for the technology that isn’t thought of as weaponry, why?”

“That’s where the Dalek came from,” the Doctor tapped his chin, “But why now, of all time?”

“While,” Guardian replied, “We did put your box into the warehouse, does that help?”

“Of course!” the Doctor stood up, “The Dalek used the timey wimey stuff!”

“What?” Guardian asked, raising his bottom left eyelid.

“Well you see,” The Doctor lectured, “Back in the Time War, Daleks would use the residue from the time vortex to power and regenerate themselves. My TARDIS picks up timey wimey stuff, gets put in the warehouse, makes contact with Dalek, and BOOM!” He waved his arms in the air for emphasis, “Any questions?”

Guardian opened his mouth, but closed it in better judgment.

===

“The watch, somnuimforms, she is returning,” a biped creature walked around the halls, making his way into the warehouse, clad in a white jumpsuit. In his clenched hands, rested a journal, its pages yellowing in age. He pushed the warehouse doors open and saw it.

“Hello, you sexy thing.”

As the sentence left his lips, a surge of energy rushed through him. His feet patted the ground, his legs in a swirl. He stroked the wooden surface with one hand.

He flipped the journal open, going through pages until he found the pattern, from a memory. A memory of a woman sticking a pin in the lock. He fumbled at the ground until he came across a paper clip.

Click

The door opened, a greenish glow radiated from the interior lights.

“Well, I’m hardly in appropriate attire,” he glanced at his jumpsuit.

His eyes floated to a sign above a corridor, reading: Wardrobe.

===

“What was that?”

“What?” The Doctor turned his attention to Twilight, who was fixated to the computer screen.

“Someone just got into the TARDIS,” she responded, poking at the screen.

“But that’s impossible! A horde of angry crabs, and falling off a cliff couldn’t open that!” he scrunched his head, “Then again, Marge got in with pin-”

“Anyway,” Twilight interrupted, “It might be a good idea to see who’s in there.”

“Good idea, indeed,” he agreed, “Vite, vite, dépêche vous!”

He sprinted to the door, but was blocked. Two blue unicorns, one skinny and one rather round, stood at the doorway.

“FREEZE!”

The two aimed their pistols to the Doctor.

“Good!” he smiled sarcastically, “More blokes with guns. You want to save the planet? Come with me!” He ran past them.

“What’s with him?” a guard asked curiously.

“I think… that’s his normal attitude,”

The two unicorns trotted towards the Doctor.

“The name's Angle,” the skinny one introduced, “And this here is my friend Iron Sight.”

“Well, I’m the Doctor!”

“Why should we believe that you can stop this?” Iron Sight asked, “Aren’t you the one who started this?”

“What?” the Doctor responded, offended, “Why would it be me?”

“You were the first to escape,” Angle explained, “You also seem to be strangely happy.”

“I’ll admit, I am a bit excited to help,” the Doctor confessed, “Sue me.”

“Alright,” Angle agreed hesitantly, “Let’s go see whatever it is you want to do.

===

The Doctor and the ponies ran through the corridors. Weevils, strange red tentacle covered creatures, and autons appeared through all directions.

“Dammit!” Angle cursed, “The warehouse is all the way down two floors!”

“Let’s see, let’s see…” the Doctor punched his forehead, “What do I do?” Suddenly, a figurative light bulb went off over his head. “Hold on,” the Doctor grinned and pointed the ‘square-ness gun’ to the ground.

“Times a-wastin’!”

Twilight saw the warning gleam in his eyes, “Doctor, maybe we shoul-AHHHHHH!”

The group, excluding the Doctor, screamed as the floor beneath them opened and swallowed them up.

THUD

“Ugghhh, warn me the next time you do something like that again,” Twilight groaned.

“Does he do that often?” Guardian asked.

“More than I would like,”

“Alrighty then!” the Doctor jumped to his feet. He ran to the box, “Let’s see who the TARDIS intruder is!”

Angle looked at him with a blank expression, “What’s this TARDIS?”

“It’s my ship. One the best!” he boasted, “Let’s have a looksie, shall we?”

The Doctor pushed the doors open. The faithful blue box stood tall and proud. “And there she is, my transport through the history of anything, and anywhere!”

“What? A box?” Butter asked, “We went all this way for a box?”

“It’s bigger on the inside,” Twilight explained impatiently, “Let’s just see what this is about.”

The Doctor stepped up to the TARDIS door and knocked, “Hello, mind if you get outta my TARDIS?”

The blue doors opened with a creak. A pale man in a leather jacket and khaki pants, topped off with a top hat, peered out.

“It’s you!” he shouted in excitement, “I have been waiting for quite some time to meet you!”

“Um… do I know you?”

“C’mon! Remember the human thing you saw before?” the intruder pointed to himself, “That was me!”

“Oh, I didn’t recognize you…” the Doctor raised an eyebrow, “Have you been in my wardrobe?”

His question was answered with a nod.

“Okay!” the Doctor clapped his hands, “I do have a few question, including ‘What’s your name?’ ‘How did you get inside the TARDIS?’, and ‘How do you know who I am?”

The man pulled a book from the inside of his jacket, “This book is the answer to most of those questions. As for my name, Test Subject 18. Their first successful DNA splicing experiment.”

The Doctor thumbed through the book, “Hold on- Twilight! Bring me your guide!”

Twilight lifted the book from her saddlebags, and into the Doctor’s hands.

“Well, well, how do you like that!” he chuckled, “Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey!” He handed the books back to their respective owners, “Twilight, say hello to the writer of the Guide of Creatures and Technology in Space!”

“…”

“You know, I expected you to be more excited about it,”

Twilight blinked, “Oh, uh, wow! I… didn’t expect that.”

“That’s better,” the Doctor, “Now! I know what your thinking. How is this nutter going to save us all? The answer is simple. I need something from my TARDIS.”

“What’re you going to do?” Guardian asked precariously.

“Trust me,” a gleam shone through the Doctor’s eyes, “I’ll also need a map of the building.”

===

The Dalek rolled to the speakers, “WARNING! WARNING! THE DOCTOR IS IN THE PLANET!”

A voice blared back, “DOCTOR WHO?”

The Dalek recoiled in confusion. “THE DOCTOR! THE ONCOMING STORM! THE PREDATOR TO ALL DALEKS!”

“NO NAMES FOUND DALEK DATABASE!” the voice roared back.

“THE DOCTOR IS AN ENEMY TO THE DALEKS. HE IS DANGEROUS! SEND REENFORCEMENTS” The Dalek requested.

“REQUEST ACCEPTED!” the Dalek voice responded.

A beam of light appeared, and a Dalek materialized. It lifted its plunger, a small syringe stuck from the center.

===

Guardian trotted to the Doctor, “Okay, I know you said ‘Trust me,’ when I asked, but what are you really going to do?”

“I’m going to use these teleporters,” he lifted up a group of black devices he retrieved from the TARDIS, “I’ll need to go around the building, and place them. Now, the Dalek is like a homing devise, it sends a signal to the big ship up above, and should, considering how far away from here, and the speed of their ships… round about 10 minutes.”

“So, 10 minutes to set up five transporters, around a building five miles wide, and 4 miles long?”

“More or less,”

“Right,”

They walked on in silence.

“Is it me, or is it too quite?” The Doctor wondered, “Shouldn’t we be dead already?”

“Well don’t jinx it!” Twilight hissed back, “Just be thankful.”

“Can’t help it. Here we are, in a building filled to the brim with unbelievably dangerous creatures, and here we are. This is impossible! Unless…” his face drained of his color, “Let’s go,”

“What exactly are you worried about?” The three turned to see that TS18 was the questioner.

“You’re smart. A building full of creatures plus a Dalek and complete silence, do the math,” TS18’s eyes opened in horror as he realized the implications.

“There’s no way that single Dalek could have silenced the entire building that quickly, so…”

“It’s bringing friends,” he finished the sentence, “I’m sorry, getting all serious again. Need to lighten up the situation. YOU!” he pointed an accusing finger at TS18, “I am not comfortable calling you by Test Subject 18. Don’t you have another name?”

“Well, you’re the Doctor,” TS18 pointed to his journal, “Since I just write things down in this book, I can be… The Scribe!”

“Hahaha! Nice one!” the Doctor smiled, “Good! Tension died, sorry tension, and lets get a move on!”

===

Pinkie sighed. Her cage door was open, but the chains held her down tight. Even her laughter wouldn’t-couldn’t removed them. She overheard something about them being dwarf star alloy.

Wait! What was that? Her ears swiveled to a trotting sound. The sound of metal scraping against wood. And then she heard the sound of jingling keys.

A weird ape thing in a suit stepped into view, swinging a ring of keys in his extended finger.

“Hello, Pinkie. Miss me?”

===

“Yippee!” Pinkie bounced up and down, free from her binds. She aimed her nose into the air, and confetti shot from her nostrils.

“Quite!” The Scribe shushed, “I hear something.”

Tap…tap…tap…tap

“Sounds like hooves,” Twilight said excitedly, “Maybe somepony’s there!”

A dark silhouette formed in the shadowy hall. An upright, four-horned figure staggered into the light.

“Is that…” the Doctor scrunched up his eyes, “No, it couldn’t be, too many horns.”

A light erupted from the center of the creature’s crown of horns. It swerved around, scanning the group.

“Six hostiles detected,” it lifted an arm, revealing a small metal tube ripping through the palm of it’s hand.

“RUN!”

The tube shot out a blue laser, nearly hitting them. A hole in the wall appeared where it hit.

“Oh, I hate those things,” he groaned, “It’s not enough just to kill them, is it? You just have to use them as puppets!”

Reaching into his bigger-on-the-inside pockets, the Doctor pulled out the square-ness gun. The blue light cut a square around the ceiling, crashing onto the creature. The Doctor wiped his hands together looked at a directory nearby a staircase.

“This is going to take to long. Time to slit up. Twilight, Guardian, Pinkie, go off to the west wing, and set up these two transmats to the points here and here,” he tapped the directory, “Me, Butter, Angle, and the Scribe will place the transmats here, here, and here. Once it’s done, meet each other back in the warehouse, and we can all get outta this madhouse in the TARDIS.”

Twilight nodded, “Good! Any advise on hostiles we meet?”

“Yeah, if you see a Dalek, get away from it. As fast as possible,” the Doctor glared at the debris, “You really don’t want to mess with them.”

“What do they do?”

“That alien over there,” he pointed towards the debris, “Was a Judoon. The police of the universe. I don’t know how they did it, but somehow they managed to convert him to those puppets.”

Twilight gulped. The Judoon forehead was split where the eyestalk stuck out. She didn’t want to end up like that poor thing.

He pulled out a sack of gold dust, and a small spray can.

“The cyberpony can be stopped with this stuff,” He explained, referring to the gold, “And the can has something from Jack, a friend of mine, called Anti-Weevil spray. That should come in handy.”

Guardian took the tools with his magic and trotted away with Twilight and Pinkie, giving a small salute.

===

The Doctor looked smiled and looked around the hallway. The first teleporter was placed in a bathroom. That left two more.

“So… these transporters… how exactly do they work?” Butter asked, examining one with curiosity.

“Pretty much the same as how the time storms worked. Pick up one thing and drop it off somewhere else. In this case, the Daleks and the black hole, K37 gem. The gravity will pull them into, and hopefully kill them,” The Doctor said while fiddling with a wire in another box.

Behind them was the Scribe. He limped and started stuttering.

“What’s wrong?” the Doctor stopped and ran to his aide.

“She is returning, the bomb, monsters. Monsters everywhere!” the Scribe chanted over and over again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked trying to shake him from his trance. The Scribe desperately fumbled with a pen and jotted down something in the Guide.

The Doctor heard some noises. In the end of the corridor, a dome shaped silhouette inched closer.

“It’s coming,” he hissed, and turned to the Scribe, “We have to go!”

The Doctor pulled out the square-ness gun and prepared to shoot the ground away again. The Dalek rolled into view.

“EXTERMINATE!”

A laser shoot from it’s firing arm, reducing the gun to ash.

“Well, that’s not good,” the Doctor’s eyes opened and filled with panic. The Scribe slumped over, unconscious.

Iron Sight whipped his head to a door, “There! It’s another warehouse! Nothing is able to penetrate through them!”

The group ran away, the Doctor holding onto the Scribe’s arms. The Dalek pointed its arm to Iron Sight’s back and shouted the Dalek’s battle cry.

“EXTERMINATE!”

Another beam shot from the rod, and made contact with the target. His skeleton briefly appeared in the flash, brightly illuminating a green light.

“Iron Sight, no!” Angle grabbed his rifle his magic and fired bullets to the monster. The Doctor pulled him back and pulled him into the warehouse.

====

Angle sat in the corner of the Warehouse and brooded. The Doctor slouched over a desk and half-heartedly played with a circular saw, inspecting the material. He slowly grinned.

“This is Dalekanium,” he whispered excitedly, “We can use it as a shield to protect ourselves!”

“What’s Dalekanium?” Angle asked, looking up for the first time.

“It’s the material Daleks are made up of! It can deflect the beams back to them, and damage its armor! Then we can trap it, and make sure it can’t kill anymore!”

The door to the warehouse became red. Angle cringed.

“Let’s do it quickly. That thing is breaking in.”

====

The first transporter was placed. Even Pinkie, for one of the first few times, became serious and determined to stop that thing attacking the very building, which served as a prison for countless months.

Guardian laughed awkwardly, and rubbed the back of his head, “So! Sorry for imprisoning you…”

“Drop it,” Pinkie sighed. It almost seemed like an eternity, yet it almost felt like she just arrived. That Dwarf Star Alloy thing was weird like that.

“I just hope we can survive,” Twilight gulped, “That Dalek puppet thing looked like a monster. With that laser coming out from its paw. And that eyestalk…”

“I hope he can get rid of them, so I can get outta here,” Guardian confessed, “I feel more guiltier by the second.”

“I hope that Ponyville can forgive me for missing all those parties!”

Guardian stopped and grinned.

“We’re here! Let’s go back while we still can!”

===

“Got the chain ready?” The Doctor whispered.

“All clear!” The Scribe and Angle responded in unison.

The Doctor narrowed his eyebrows. He cracked his fingers and prepared to open the door.

CRACK!!

The door splinted, showering them with debris.

“NOW!”

The Scribe lifted the saw in behind his back ran up to the Dalek.

“EXTERMINATE!”

Triggered by the battle cry, he quickly held the saw to his body. The laser bounced off against the surface, and back to the Dalek’s armor.

“SHIELD MALFUNCTION! LASER MALFUNCTION!”

Angle tugged at the chain. The chains fell to the Dalek, tangling it and restricting its movements.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he grinned as he leaned towards the Dalek.

“NO!” The Doctor warned.

The Dalek raised its plunger arm to his face. The end wrapped itself against his face.

“Mphphhhhh!” the sucker released its grip from Angle. A little spot of blood trickled down his muzzle.

Angle coughed. His forehead bulged, until an eyestalk poked out of it. He raised his hoof, and a rod stuck out from the end.

“No. No. No, NO, NO, NO!” The Doctor rushed to help him. But it was too late. Angle was gone. The Doctor glared at the Dalek. The Scribe swore he saw its eyestalk tremble.

The Doctor’s eyes were ablaze with anger and hatred. Finally, his rage broke. He picked up the circular saw and walked to the Dalek.

“Do you have any idea who I am?”

“DATABASE SHOWS NO INFORMATION,” the Dalek blared.

“Well, then,” he pressed a button on the saw, and the blade started to spin. The saw inched closer and closer to the trapped Dalek’s arms, “I’ll give you a reminder.”

The Scribe watched in horror as the Doctor, in cold blood, sawed the Dalek open, removing the gun and sucker. The arms made a loud clank sound as it hit the floor.

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

Angle walked to the Doctor.

“Prepare for extermination.”

The laser beam shot from his hoof, and bounced back to him. Without Dalekanium armor, it instantly killed him.

“You’ve been a good boy for the Doctor,” he said sarcastically, “Have some Jelly Babies.” He pulled out a bag from his jacket pocket, and threw it at the remains of the Dalek.

===

Guardian sat idly in the corridor where the Doctor asked them to wait for him. The excitement of the day wore off. It was actually getting quite boring.

“Thanks for waiting.”

Twilight ran to the Doctor, grapping him with a hug.

“Good! You’re alive!” she let go of her grip, and smiled sheepishly. Her smile turned to a frown as she saw his face. Old and angry looking eyes stared back at her. “What happened?”

“We met up with the Dalek,” he sighed, “Killed Angle and Iron Sight.”

The other three gasped in shock.

“How did you get out?” Guardian asked.

The look the Doctor gave him showed that he hit a tough subject.

“The important thing is, the transporters are in place, correct?” the Scribe quickly changed the subject.

Pinkie nodded happily, “We met a few meanies on the way here, but I laughed at them and erased them from our plane of existence.”

“Bon!” the Doctor clapped, “Now let’s go to the TARDIS and get out of this asylum.”

===

Vroooom, vroooom, vroooom.

The TARDIS materialized in a sunny field. The survivors pooled out, and cheered in relief. The Doctor stayed in the TARDIS, and sighed.

“Okay, everyone,” The Doctor shooed the ponies from the TARDIS, “I need to control the teleportation in the epicenter of the transporters. Sorry.”

The TARDIS materialized away, again. The Doctor banged his head against the door, and sighed deeper.

“I am so, so, sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

The Doctor, startled, spun around, and saw the Scribe, holding a perception filter in his hand.

“You shouldn’t leave these thing laying around. Someone bad could get them. Like Adam.”

“Wha-“

The Scribe lifted his hand to stop him. “I know what you’re going to do, but I just can’t let you do that.”

“Scribe…”

“You can’t,” he shook his head firmly, “You have so much more to do. There’s not much for me. But you’re fate is fixed.”

“Don’t do this,” the Doctor pleaded, “I don’t need someone else’s blood on my hands.”

“I have to.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I am,” the Scribe handed his journal to the Doctor, “Here. Apparently Twilight gets it in the past. Make sure she gets it. It’ll save her life.”

“How do you know?” the Doctor asked, “Scribe, back in the warehouse, a Dalek was going to kill us. How could you just sit there and write.”

Now it was the Scribe’s turn to sigh, “The person they spliced with me was a mighty, all knowing being. They took a piece of his brain, and put it in mine. That cell, that one speck, started to rebuild itself. It took over me. Every now and then, I would have these surges of information, and I can’t help myself but write it down. Before they got me the book, I would scrape it onto the walls.”

The TARDIS stopped materializing.

“Well, this is my stop,” he took off his top hat, “It has been just a pleasure working with you.”

The Doctor took off his own Stetson, “The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Scribe.”

Before leaving, he turned and said, “There’s something I need to tell you, though. Soon, very soon, there will be a departure, a rebirth, and a return.”

===

Vrooom, vroom, vrooooom.

“”Where did you go off to?” Twilight asked, “And where’s the Scribe?”

The Doctor stared at the DAEL headquarters. A giant flying saucer flew down to the building, about to land, when…

BOOM!

A large cloud of dust arose from the building, destroying it, and the ship.

“I thought you said those were transporters!” Twilight accused.

“Rule number one. The Doctor lies,” he hung his head low, and stared at the journal in his hand, “I’m sorry.”

Twilight, Guardian, and, surprisingly enough, Pinkie were at a loss for words. Guardian trotted to the sulking man.

“Does that mean,” Guardian gulped, “The Scribe is dead?”

The Doctor nodded.

===

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Twilight asked while she and Pinkie boarded the box.

“Yep. I think I’ll need a new, calmer job after this. Maybe I can try the park ranger thing again. Besides, I’ve got a few hostiles to round up before I can do anything.”

“Alright then,” she gave him a hug, “I’ll miss you.”

Guardian waved goodbye. Twilight walked into the TARDIS, shutting the door behind her. The Doctor waved and said, "So long and thanks for all the fish."

“I love you. Damn it!”

===

“Doctor, are… you okay?”

“I swear I’m sorry Twilight. I just knew you wouldn’t let me destroy the building when I was in it,” the Doctor refused to make eye contact with her.

“It’s alright,” Twilight assured, though her frown suggested otherwise, “You did what you had to do.”

“Good! So, is there anywhere you’d like to go next? How about the invention of baseball? Or the Big Bang 2?” The Doctor's voice was almost desperate for some reason.

“I told you already, Doctor, I want to see my friends. Pinkie probably wants to as well.”

“Are you kidding me? I missed them soooo much. I can’t believe how many parties I must’ve missed. I also promised Applejack I’d have lunch with her, so I guess I’ll have to reschedule.”

As Pinkie rambled on, the Doctor couldn’t help but wonder about the Scribe’s warning: A departure, a rebirth, and a return. He hoped the departure wasn’t what he thought. He hated goodbyes.