The Doctor's Alpha

Chapter 1: A Crash Landing

The Doctor was starting to question his decision to remain “companion-less” after Donna’s… departure. His past adventures made it quite clear that his companions tended to notice that the TARDIS needed repairs long before he would… it helped to have humans to make comments about how rough the ride was getting and such.

However the Doctor was alone in his TARDIS and, apart from a few hitchhikers he’d been alone in his adventures for some time now. In an attempt to forget the circumstances which had led to losing Donna, the Doctor had dove into his heroics and had neglected his beloved ship… and now he was paying the price.

It was a normal enough day, saving a planet and then jumping in the TARDIS to find somewhere to go to eat dinner… when all of a sudden the Doctor had lost control of the TARDIS. Although (technically) you couldn’t fall through the Time Vortex, that was exactly what the TARDIS was doing at the very moment… and all the Doctor could do was hold on and pray to every God, Goddess and Gender-Lacking Deity he could think of.

After what seemed like an eternity of being fighting to keep from being tossed around the Control Room like some sort of bouncy ball, the TARDIS managed to come to a stop. The gravity from her “fall” and the impact with non-vortex material resulted in a terrific jolt which threw the Doctor to the ground. Sighing as he rubbed at the bruises that the fall had caused, the Doctor managed to sit up and look around at his beloved ship.

Muttering a prayer of thanks that nothing was on fire, the Doctor hauled himself to his feet and pulled up the screen which usually displayed the TARDIS’ location and date… only to find that it was black. Most likely the latest landing had either torn or otherwise damaged the wires which connected tech to screen.

“Guess we’ll have to do this the old fashioned way.” the Doctor muttered, smiling softly when the TARDIS sent back a sort of hopeful feeling. “I’ll cross my fingers that where somewhere with advanced enough tech that I can help you with repairs.”

The Doctor stepped away from the controls and towards the doors of the TARDIS, pausing just long enough to get his trench coat before he opened the doors and stepped outside, intending to find out where and, more importantly when he’d ended up this time.

Before the Doctor’s eyes could even adjust to the change in light, he heard the doors of the TARDIS slam closed as was grabbed by the shoulders and roughly thrown forward. Ending up on his knees, the Doctor looked back to see that two soldiers had thrown him… one of the soldiers was inspecting the closed and (the Doctor guessed) locked TARDIS as the other pointed a large gun at the Doctor.

In front of the Doctor were three men, two of them apparently generals or some other such high rank. Neither wore helmets, the one on the right had long black hair that was closely cut in the front and long in the back. The Doctor realized he‘d been spending too much time on Earth / with humans when he found himself labeling the hair cut a “mullet”. The man’s armor, while it definitely wasn’t ‘standard’ issue, had seen a few battles and, while well cared for, showed signs of use.

The second General, who was standing in front and to the left of the Doctor had more ornate armor, which appeared to be silver or some other precious metal. Unlike the General with the mullet, this man didn’t seem to have recently fought in any battle… his armor could have been used as a mirror. His hair was a closely cut military style, and in the dark light the Doctor couldn’t see the man’s hair or eye color.

Between the two Generals, directly in front of the Doctor was an elegant throne, where a powerful built man was sitting… actually it was more like comfortably sprawled in the throne. A fool would think that this man wasn’t paying attention, and might even think that he was sleeping, since his eyes were hidden by dark goggles, like the kind a welder would wear.

His head was shaved and every inch of his body was well muscled. Despite looking like the bodybuilders of Earth, something in the man’s way of carrying himself told the Doctor that he knew exactly how to use his strength. Unlike the Generals, the man on the Throne didn’t have a single scrap of armor on his body… actually he was wearing a very simple outfit of black pants and a black wife beater, with heavy boots that looked like they’d walked a thousand miles or more.

Before the Doctor could make any guesses about where or when he’d found himself, the General with the Silver armor stepped forward, drawing a gun which --- like his armor --- seemed more decorative then functional, although the Doctor could tell it would (probably) hurt just as much as a purely functional weapon.

“Your name.” the General practically growled.

It wasn’t the first time the Doctor wished he had a more “traditional” name… but he would bet that the man on the throne, as well as the General with the mullet, would be able to sense that “John Smith” wasn’t his real name… so he said the only thing he really could… “The Doctor.”

The Silver General sneered and stepped closer, pressing the gun against the Doctor’s skull, forcing him to lean to one side as the Mullet General and the Throne Man seemed to lean forward ever so slightly. “What is your name?” the Silver General said.

“The Doctor!” He fought to keep those two words from sounding like a squeak, but doubted he sounded too brave at that moment.

“Doctor who?” Silver General seemed to be fighting the urge to scream his question.

“Just the Doctor!” He was considering saying ‘John Smith’ but was afraid that to change his answer would be worse then just repeating the truth over and over again… hoping that the Silver General understood or grew tired of asking.

The Doctor suddenly realized that the Silver General had pulled back his gun, and was preparing to hit the Doctor over the head with the weapon… the Time Lord prepared himself for the blow, intending to pretend to be knocked out…

But the expected blow never came.

In a matter of seconds the man on the throne had stood up and moved over to the Doctor, so fast is seemed he was teleporting rather then running. Before the Silver General could react, the man had grabbed the General’s arm and the Doctor heard the sound of bones snapping as the gun was wrenched from the General’s arms and thrown to the side, far out of the Doctor’s reach.

The Silver General crumpled to the ground, gasping in pain as he held his shattered arm and stared up at his apparent Leader. “Forgive me sir!” he squeaked, and despite everything the Doctor had to fight back the urge to laugh at the Silver General, as he was dragged away by some soldiers.

The Doctor looked up at the Leader of the Soldiers, who was staring down at the still kneeling Time Lord. The Leader tilted his head to one side, as if thinking about something before he reached up and pushed his goggles up on his forehead.

The black goggles revealed the man’s hidden eyes, which bore the strange white-purple color of a surgical shine job… the sort that allowed a man to see in the dark. The Doctor would have bet his TARDIS that was what the Soldiers believed… but the Doctor knew that the simplest explanation wasn’t always the right one.

“You’re Furyan.” the Doctor stated, strangely unafraid of the Leader, despite the strength and speed he’d shown in dispatching the Silver General.

The man seemed to smirk, as if the Doctor’s words had confirmed some idea of his. “And you?” he asked as he slowly stood from his kneeling ‘fighting’ stance so that he stood at his full height… even if the Doctor hadn’t been on his knees the Furyan would have towered over the Time Lord.

“Time Lord.” the Doctor answered, calmly looking directly into the Furyan’s eyes.

“That your ship?” the Furyan asked, gesturing behind the Doctor at his TARDIS.

“Yes -- she’s broken… that’s why I landed here.” the Doctor struggled to explain as the Furyan turned around and walked back towards the throne… the Mullet General instantly stepping forward, as if he had known that the Furyan would place a hand on the General’s shoulders and start issuing commands…

“The room across from mine, the ship as well.” Releasing the General’s shoulder, the Furyan sat down on his Throne, smirking slightly at the baffled look on the Doctor’s face. After a second of silence he leaned forward, his eyes seeming to darken as he looked over the common soldiers who had remained in the background. “The Doctor is my guest. Understand?”

“Yes Lord Marshal!” the Soldiers shouted, saluting their leader.

The ‘Lord Marshal’ looked back at the Mullet General. “Vaako.” he ordered, continuing when he knew he had the man’s attention. “Accompany the Doctor.” Once he said this the Lord Marshal’s hand replaced the black goggles, hiding his eyes once again.

General Vaako stepped forward and, displaying a gentleness which was well hidden by his manor of carrying himself, helped the Doctor to stand, before guiding the Doctor out of the Throne Room. The Doctor looked around as he followed Vaako through a series of grand rooms which seemed to be dimly lit on purpose… here and there he could see common men and women in dark clothing disassembling what appeared to have been large statues.

Soon Vaako and the Doctor had passed out of the larger rooms and into a series of hallways, each turn seeming to take them to a less frequently traveled area of what the Doctor guessed must be a grand palace or fortress. Seeing that they were alone, the Doctor stepped forward, to walk by Vaako’s side… he intended to question the General, but was beaten to it by the somber man.

“That was Richard B. Riddick, the Seventh Lord Marshal of the Necromongers. You are inside the Basilica.”

The Doctor blinked and stayed silent, struggling to process this information and, to his surprise, finding that he actually couldn’t remember the “Necromongers”… except that he knew they were a sort of Religious Nation and they were Human.

As he struggled to remember more about the Necromongers, the Doctor found that Vaako had stopped, and realized that the two of them were inside a large bedroom… although grand in scale and elegant, the room was incredibly simple, as the rest of the ship had been. The Necromongersseemed to have size and efficiency as their marks of wealth… rather then ornate artwork. The Necromonger’s buildings seemed to be made to last for a thousand years in the worst sort of conditions. Vaako shut the door to the room behind him, and quickly explained how to lock the doors -- the Doctor was surprised to find that the locks could (probably) stand up to an invading army of Daleks.

“Why put me in the room across from his?” The Doctor half whispered, not really expecting Vaako to answer his question.

“Lord Riddick is protecting you.” Vaako explained, placing a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder, using it to turn the Time Lord so that they were looking right at each other. The Doctor froze at the deadly serious look in Vaako’s eyes. “In our faith you keep what you kill.”

“Even if someone killed me… they wouldn’t be able to get into my ship.” The Doctor smiled softly at the thought of his ship.

“Your killers would not care for your ship.“ Vaako replied, stepping away from the Doctor. Before the Time Lord could get the General to explain, there came a sort of scratching sound from the door… Immediately Vaako was opening up the door and holding it open while he stood back, as if to give whoever wanted entry a wide berth.

A large animal walked into the room, sniffing at Vaako’s legs for a second before turning it’s attention on the Doctor. The animal resembled a sort of wolf or large god, but instead of fur it had plate like armor, which gave it the appearance of a monster made of lava. As the animal sniffed at the Doctor it’s ‘armor’ rattled and the Doctor found himself wondering if the rattles were part of the creature’s language.

Slowly the Doctor extended his arm, offering the creature his hand… after all, the animal did seem to be some sort of dog. After sniffing the Doctor’s hand under the watchful eyes of Vaako, who seemed ready to step in-between Time Lord and dog creature at the slightest sign of danger, the animal seemed to decide that the Doctor wasn’t a threat.

Stepping away from the Doctor, the animal walked back to the open door and barked a few times, it’s scales rattling as it barked. A similar mix of barks and rattles echoed from the hallway and the Doctor could hear the sound of footsteps.

Soon another creature walked into the room, followed by two smaller ones which, despite their ferocious appearance, the Doctor found himself calling “puppies”.

The Doctor squeaked in surprise when the two puppies leapt at him, pushing him back on to the bed and licking at his face. The two older creatures also hopped up on the bed, one sitting on either side of the Doctor and seeming to fall asleep at once.

Vaako smiled and seemed to be holding back a laugh. “I wouldn’t worry too much… it seems like the Hellhounds like you.”

“Hellhounds?” the Doctor muttered looking down at the Helhounds before he patted one of the puppies (you couldn’t really pet them, due to the scales). The puppy, which had taken up residence in the Doctor’s lap seemed to smile and yipped, before it shook it’s scales, as if encouraging the Doctor to pat it again.

“They only just tolerate everyone else… except for the Lord Marshal…” Vaako noted, turning towards the doors. “I should have guessed…”

With those words, Vaako stepped through the doors, closing them behind him as he left the room…the Doctor sighed in confusion, but said nothing.

He shifted into a more comfortable position and looked down at the Hellhound puppies which were with him, while the adult Hellhounds just slept at the foot of the bed. The Doctor ran a hand through his hair and lay back on the bed, trying to sort out his thoughts.

Several hours passed, the Doctor residing is a sort of simi-conscious state, absently mindly petting the Hellhound puppies while thinking of the state he’d suddenly found himself in… this trance was only broken by the entrance of a thin woman, wearing a simple black dress and cloak that covered her hair and bathed her face in shadows. On silent feet she entered the Doctor’s new room, pushing a small cart with several covered platters.

Without speaking to the Doctor, the woman laid out what had to be the Time Lord’s dinner. While the meal consisted of several dishes and courses, the food was all simple fare, the sort which fueled a body to fight… the Necromongers seemed to have turned every aspect of their lives toward the pursuit of military might.

After laying out the Doctor’s meal, the woman unwrapped a brown paper package, revealing several pieces of raw meat, still dripping with blood. The hollow look upon her face didn’t shift as the two Hellhounds approached her, mouths open as they salivated in hunger. Calmly she tossed the meat to the two Hellhounds and, after making sure everything was in order, she swept out of the room as silently as she’d entered.

The Doctor watched the Hellhounds devour most of their dinner, before offering a couple partially chewed up pieces to their pups. One of the Hellhounds, which the Doctor thought was a female, moved over to the Doctor and nudged him towards the table where his dinner had been laid out.

The Doctor fought against the Hellhound’s pushing for a few seconds, before giving in. “Worse then the TARDIS you are…” he muttered and he would have swore that the Hellhound grinned at him.

Several hours later a different, but extremely similar woman entered the room. She gathered the remains of the Doctor’s dinner left, never saying one word or even looking at the Time Lord… despite this apparent lack of interest the Doctor noticed that the adult Hellhounds had kept their glowing eyes on the woman of the entire time that she was in the room…

That night the Doctor found himself sandwiched in-between the two adult hellhounds, with one pup curled in the space between his neck an adult hellhound, while the other was curled up in a ball on the Time Lord’s chest.

The Doctor guessed that it was morning when the two pups woke him by licking his face with their tiny sandpaper like tongues… it was impossible to tell because his room had no windows and the lighting in the Basilica seemed to be perpetually set on dim.

What he labeled “breakfast” was served to him by a young man who, like the women who’d come before, wore black clothing and didn’t speak. Because the man wasn’t wearing a hood the Doctor could see two sort of puncture marks on either side of the man’s neck… although they were healed, they seemed to a recent addition. Thinking back, the Doctor realized that both Generals and all the soldiers whose neck’s he’d been able to see had the same marks… in fact the only Necromonger that hadn’t had the strange scars was the Lord Mashel himself.

After (once again) being practically forced to eat by one of the larger Hellhounds, the meal was taken away… but at the same time that a young man entered to remove the meal several soldiers also entered the room, helping to move the TARDIS into a corner.

General Vaako was standing off to one side, watching the soldiers as they worked. As they filed by him in order to leave the room, he seemed to stare at each one in turn, as if daring them to act up. When Vaako was alone in the room with the Doctor and the Hellhounds, he slowly walked over to a sort of metal box which the soldiers had brought in along with the TARDIS. The Doctor watched as Vaako opened the box, revealing a set of tools. “Anything you require we shall endeavor to supply.”

“Vaako?” the Doctor stepped forward, stopping the General from leaving the room. “Yesterday, you said that Necromongers keep what they kill… but that they wouldn’t kill me for my ship…”

Vaako seemed to freeze, as if unsure how he should answer the Doctor’s question. “The Lord Marshal only recently took that position… he has made many changes, but he has yet to make his decision regarding… regarding a consort.”

The Doctor’s mouth fell open. “You can’t mean…” the trailed off, unable to finish his sentence and finding that his legs were suddenly extremely shaky…

“Many see the Lord Marshal’s hospitably as a sign that he is courting you.” Vaako continued, still not meeting the Doctor’s eyes… and still remaining in the doorway. “There are many who desire that place for themselves.”

The Doctor tried to make some sort of argument, tried to tell Vaako that couldn’t be what was really happening… only to find that he couldn’t find the words ---him, the man who lived by his ability to distract his enemies with long winded techno babble… he was struck dumb by what General Vaako had just told him.

Vaako silently turned and left the room… closing the doors behind him he left the Doctor alone with his thoughts and the hellhounds.

The Doctor didn’t know how much time passed… it seemed like days went by that he’d spent standing in the middle of his room, his brain stuck on the information that Vaako had given to him…

The Doctor was started out of his thoughts by the sound of the doors being violently pushed open. For a second or two the Doctor actually thought that a Cyberman was standing in the doorway… he was that startled by the sudden sound.

However it was no Cyberman standing in the doorway to the Doctor’s rooms, although the Doctor didn’t doubt that he was at least as strong as the metallic monsters. Standing in the doorway was the Lord Marshal of the Necromongers, Richard B. Riddick. Standing by his side were four adult hellhounds, and three pups played around the feet their parents and Riddick.

The Furyan swept into the room, instantly taking the space and making it his own. The hellhounds followed him, always staying at least one step behind… it was clear that the mighty beasts saw Richard as the Alpha Male of their pack… even the hellhounds who had been with the Doctor seemed to straighten up, and the two pups seemed to grasp the seriousness of the situation.

“Doctor.” Riddick smiled before reaching up to remove his goggles… the better to see you with the Doctor’s mind supplied before he suddenly realized that the lights, already dim, had darkened even more when Riddick had entered the room. “What do you think of them?” Riddick asked, gesturing to the hellhounds. The pups which had entered the room with the Lord Marshal had run over and were now nuzzling at the Doctor’s ankles, begging to be acknowledged and receive a pat or two.

“You would have to be crazy to try and tame them.” the Doctor remarked, looking down at the pups, one of which had started to nibble on his shoelaces. He paused for a moment to remove the overzealous hellhound from his shoes before he turned his attention back to Riddick. “They see you as their Alpha… don’t they?”

Riddick shrugged before turning away from the Doctor and looking over at the TARDIS… although the Doctor could tell that the man still had his entire attention fixed on him. The Doctor found himself jumping slightly in surprise when the Lord Marshal suddenly spoke. “You knew I was Furyan.” The How? didn’t need to be said… the Doctor understood what the Leader of the Necromongers was saying.

“I’m a Time Lord… I know things, it’s what my races does.” the Doctor ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to raise the subject that Vaako had so recently brought to the front of his mind. “So what is it that Furyans do?”

Riddick smirked and somehow shifted ever so slightly closer to the Doctor. “It’s an animal thing…” he whispered and the Doctor bit back a whimper of he didn’t know what as Riddick inhaled deeply, as if he was a bloodhound searching for an ellusive sent. “It’s been a long time since I smelled beautiful…” Riddick remarked, ever so slowly pulling back from the Doctor before he stalked out of the room… the doors closing behind him, leaving the Doctor with the entirety of the Hellhound pack.

Long after Riddick had left, the Doctor’s hearts were racing and he had a bright red flush to his face… even longer afterwards, when his hearts and returned to their normal beat and his face was pale once more the Time Lord was still trying to figure out just what emotion the Furyan Alpha Male had instilled in him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next few days fell into a sort of rhythm. The Hellhounds woke the Doctor shortly before a young man or woman entered with his breakfast. After eating the Doctor spent the rest of the day inside the TARDIS. To his surprise the instruments and resources that the Necromongers had provided the Time Lord were nothing short of amazing.

Not only was he able to fix the most recent damage to the TARDIS, but the ship was actually better repaired then it had been in years… however every time he thought he had done enough, every time that the Doctor started to consider firing up the TARDIS and leaving the Necromongers… every time that happened the TARDIS brought something to his attention, something which he would want to fix while he had such excellent supplies.

The Time Lord saw little of General Vaako, and even less of Riddick. To be completely honest the only times he saw the Lord Marshall was when the mysterious man was returning to his chambers at the end of each day, or early in the morning when he left those same rooms…

And it wasn’t like the Furyan was coming in to see the Doctor… rather the Doctor found himself peeking through a cracked open door, watching Riddick walk with the same intensity he normally reserved for works of art and technology. Each time he peeked at the muscled man he swore it was the last time, that he wouldn’t dash to the door at he sound of the Furyan’s boot steps… and every time he broke that promise and dashed to crack open the door and spy on the Lord Marshall.

He would have just worked on the TARDIS, just buried himself in work so as to stop thinking about Riddick… but the TARDIS had other ideas. The Doctor would go outside of the TARDIS to grab a different tool or request some materials and the TARDIS would close the doors behind him…

When that happened the Doctor often found himself following the Hellhound pack around the Basilica. Despite Vaako’s warnings, the Doctor felt safer then he ever had before in his travels… but that was probably due to the massive dogs that surrounded him like bodyguards surrounded a rock star.

A week passed before the Doctor actually talked to Riddick… and when he finally did it seemed like some sort of accidental meeting. Once again the Doctor had been wandering around with the Hellhounds , and he’d found himself walking down a twisting hall. Along the walls were six portraits.. all of men, all wearing similar decorative armor. At the base of each portrait a name was written on a small plaque…

“The Hall of the Lord Marshal.” The Doctor jumped slightly when he heard Riddick’s voice, before turning around. The Furyan was right behind him, and the Doctor hadn’t heard a thing.

“What?” The Doctor blinked in confusion at Riddick’s words.

“The previous Lord Marshalls.” Riddick gestured to the paintings which had caught the Doctor’s attention. “Vaako keeps telling me that I need to have one done.”

“Why don’t you have those marks?” the Doctor asked, turning to look at Riddick. “All the other Necromongers have those scars on their neck… but you don’t. Why?”

“It’s a symbol of their faith.” Riddick was still wearing his goggles, even though the two were alone in the hallway.

“Their faith?” The Doctor gasped softly in sudden understanding. “You’re not a Necromonger… so why are you their Lord Marshall?”

“You keep what you kill.” Riddick laughed, gesturing at the last of the portraits… that of the Sixth Lord Marshall. “There was a prophecy.” Riddick raised one eyebrow at the reaction those four words got out of the Time Lord. “You’ve heard of it?” Riddick asked.

“No… but I’ve been tossed around by enough prophecies to know a thing or two.” The Doctor sighed, running a hand through his hair. “What did the prophecy say?”

“That he would be killed by a Furyan.” Riddick’s voice was even colder then usual. “He went to my home planet and destroyed everyone… men, women and children.”

“But you survived.”

“Somehow.” Riddick stepped forward, walking past the Doctor to stand in front of the Sixth Lord Marshall’s portrait. “Grew up not knowing about my ‘people’… nothing but a street rat trying to keep himself alive.”

“So how did you end up killing the last Lord Marshal?” The Doctor asked, his hands finding their way into his pockets.

“An Elemental.” Riddick answered. “Wasn’t my fight, but she managed to get me involved.”

“And you ended up killing the Lord Marshall.”

“Expected them to kill me… instead they bowed.” Riddick laughed bitterly. “One or two have tried to kill me… mostly because of Dame Vaako.”

“Vaako?” The Doctor blinked, thinking of the General who he’d seen not four hours ago.

“Dame Vaako.” Riddick clarified. “Though she’s Dame Toal now… although that won’t last long.”

“What do you mean?”

“Toal was stripped of his rank as General.” Riddick explained, a smirk on his face. “He was the man who tried to hit you.”

The image of the General in Silver Armor flashed before the Doctor’s eyes. “Why does she change husbands so often? Vaako seems successful enough.”

“Dame Vaako wants to be the Lord Marshall’s consort. Vaako is loyal to me… so she has to look elsewhere for a man she can manipulate.” Riddick laughed. “You should look out Doctor… she may be focused on you now.” Riddick whispered as he turned to look at the Doctor.

“What?” the Doctor squeaked.

“Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Riddick whispered, slowly stepping closer to the Doctor.

“The…the rumors?” The Doctor stammered.

“They say I’m courting you.” Riddick practically purred. “That I want you to be my consort.”

“Are…” The Doctor gulped softly. “Are you?” He finally managed to stammer out.

“I don’t have to…” Riddick laughed softly. “You’re mine.” Before the Doctor could say anything, Riddick had vanished down the corridor, leaving the Doctor alone with the Hellhounds.

The Doctor, realizing that his cheeks were bright red, quickly retreated to his room and was grateful that the TARDIS allowed him to hide inside her depts.

TBC