Featuring, I think, everyone who's offered a name. I'm not sure everyone has spoken lines, but we're all in there...

---

"Can we get some quiet in here?"

The answer, apparently, was no. The multiple conversations went on, getting louder all the time. The Strategist scowled and looked at the Speaker, who shrugged.

"I can't convince them if they can't hear me," he called over the racket. "The Acoustician might be able to rig something up."

"He's too busy arguing with the Mechanic over whose responsibility the viewscreens are," the Strategist pointed out.

"The Bluejay could probably shut them up - but again, only if they can hear her."

"Precisely." The Strategist frowned around the console room. "The Supporter... well, she'd mean well, I'm sure. Oh, now, I wonder..."

The two Time Lords put their heads together. About a minute later, a new head dropped down from the gantry, fortunately attached to a body.

"Hi!" exclaimed the Weirdo. "Anything good?"

The Strategist did his best to hide a smile. "Actually, yes. We wanted to talk to everyone, but they can't hear us..."

"Oh, that's simple," the Weirdo beamed, and then yelled at the top of her lungs: "Oy! You lot! Daleks!"

The hubbub stopped instantly as the Time Lords looked around frantically. The Strategist nodded his gratitude to the Weirdo and hopped up onto one of the seats.

"Get off that!" the Mechanic yelled. "Do you know how long it takes to build a safe TARDIS ejector seat?"

"I don't plan to break it," the Strategist assured him. "But I need to get your attention, however many of you there are-"

"Fifteen," four voices chorused from around the room, and the two Librarians, the Archivist, and the Analyzer exchanged satisfied looks.

"Or fourteen," the Analyzer went on, "if you subscribe to the belief that the Librarians are the same person."

"Fourteen or fifteen, a TARDIS has a crew of six," the Strategist pointed out. "We have a severe excess of Time Lords."

"Well, some of us aren't exactly permanent crew," the Pathologist pointed out. "If you want me to take my TARDIS and go..."

"You can't!" exclaimed the Alchemist. "Who's going to patch up my burns if you go?"

"And that's a very significant point," the Analyzer put in. "We need everyone in the crew."

"Rubbish!" the Weirdo shouted. "The Artisan? The Acoustician? Four nearly-identical bookworms? The Weirdo?" She blinked. "Wait, that's me. Who needs me? What good am I?" And she burst into tears.

"Oh, don't cry!" the Supporter exclaimed, running over to her. "It's all right, we do need you, you're an invaluable part of the team..."

"Really? Brill!" The Weirdo beamed at her.

Meanwhile, the First Librarian was tapping away at his tablet computer. He beckoned his possible later form over and pointed at something.

"And I resent the implication that I'm unnecessary," the Acoustician put in. "I mean, if you want to go back to the days of never knowing what the away team is up to..."

Now the Second Librarian, nodding in agreement with her counterpart, beckoned the Archivist over. Together they peered at the screen, and then the Archivist scurried off into the depths of the TARDIS.

"Am I allowed to object too?" the Artisan asked. "I mean, yes, in a literal view of our mission statement, I'm not 'necessary'. But what good is helping people if you turn the universe into featureless cold metal along the way? We must be artists, not just soldiers. I might even say, more artists than soldiers."

"Yes, you probably would," the Samurai agreed amiably. "But I must say, that would be jolly bad form. The fact that some of us are skilled with weapons rather than crafts hardly means you should belittle us."

The Archivist returned, carrying a thick book, and passed it to the Second Librarian. The latter flicked through the pages, hunting.

"Personally I'm amazed no-one's mentioned me yet," the Bluejay said, swinging her legs where she sat on the railing. "Aren't I pretty much the definition of a tagalong?"

"Don't lay it on too thick," the Pathologist said dryly. "Besides, even if you were, history - well, fiction - shows that quirky girls 'just along for the ride' solve a significant number of major catastrophes."

The Second Librarian, having found her page, hurried over to the Analyzer and pointed at something. The latter woman frowned, then raised her eyebrow. The Librarian whispered something in her ear.

"I think the real issue isn't 'useless in isolation'," said the Mechanic. "It's redundancy. We have - sorry, Acoustician - two engineers, four information junkies, two diplomats, three fighters... how many of each do we actually need?"

"As many as we can get," the Supporter said firmly. "What's the alternative - telling people to pack their bags and get lost?"

"If necessary," the Mechanic shrugged. "If a part is unnecessary, discard it."

The Analyzer, still frowning at the book, crossed the room to the Speaker. She ran her finger down the page, demonstrating something to him, then entered into a whispered conversation.

"You can't talk about people as parts, though," the Bluejay said, uncharacteristically serious. "They're - we're - people, with our own hopes and dreams, our own feelings and desires, our own-"

"I don't know," the First Librarian cut in. "I think we can all be defined pretty quickly. As someone said, I'm a bookworm, the Mechanic is an engineer, and you're a-"

"Manic Pixie Dream Girl?" the Pathologist suggested. "But she's right - even if you can define us in one word, that doesn't say everything about us."

"That's a bit metaphysical for you, isn't it?" the Artisan asked. "I thought you were pretty down on all that 'messy emotional business'."

"Emotional?" the Pathologist asked, bemused. "I was talking about genetics."

"Enough of this," the Strategist cut in, silencing the hubbub. "The key point here is that- yes, what is it?"

The Speaker had tapped his shoulder, and the Strategist leant down to listen. After a few moments he stood again, and shrugged.

"Apparently," he said, "a study by the United Universities of Raxacoricofallapatorius has conclusively demonstrated that, when it comes to starship crews, a larger, more varied team is always preferable. I'm quite surprised, I will admit, but the Analyzer says the proof is undeniable."

"Well, that settles it, then," the Alchemist said, grinning. "You have to let me start up my trans-temporal replication experiments again."

"I said 'crew'," the Strategist pointed out wearily, "not 'hideous abominations that should be time-locked and forgotten'."

"True enough," the Alchemist mused, "but on the other hand..."

"Don't even," the Pathologist cut in. "Remember I know where the sedatives are..."

It seems to transition from straight to curly. Was that deliberate?

~Neshomeh

'The Acoustician' is the awesomest Time Lord name ever. You should use that.

I am totally just along for the ride. I'll also be singing badly and mimicking everyone's voices first chance I get.

"Flighty," pfft, yes. All the yes. There is so much yes in this whole thing.

The First Alchemist



This incarnation still used his given name. He spent his entire life on Gallifrey as a theoretical exotic chemist, basically achieving nothing of significance, before finally dying at the hands of Something Bad out of Gallifrey's past.

The Second Alchemist



This is the 'darkest' Alchemist. He devoted himself to studying the deep, dark history of Gallifrey and the universe, and adopted the use-name 'Alchemist', cutting off all ties with his former life. His studies led him into conflict with Time Lord society, and he eventually fled off-world to continue his investigations. He died in the heart of a cloud of toxic gas, which he had released in attempting to unlock an ancient sealed tomb.

The Third Alchemist (The Chemist)



This incarnation completely abandoned his former interests, even amending his name slightly to become 'the Chemist'. He was a firm believer in rigorous experimentation and logic as the only ways to solve a problem. He spent his time travelling the universe, having adventures and righting wrongs, possibly - although he never admitted it - in an effort to atone for his prior self's darker deeds. This is the version who took Lise Meitner as a Companion. He eventually died at the hands of a mob on a wildly xenophobic world.

The Fourth Alchemist



This incarnation is one of the shortest-lived Time Lord incarnations on record, and the only non-'human' regeneration of the Alchemist. He lived for about forty-eight hours, constantly on the run, before the authorities of the same world as his prior self died on caught him and had him put down.

The Fifth Alchemist



This incarnation began her (yes, her) life in mortal danger from the same mob as Alchemists III and IV had been killed by. She re-adopted the Alchemist name almost instantly, and used her twelve hour 'invulnerability' grace period after regenerating to build herself a working matter transmuter, then created a large quantity of explosives and blasted her way free. She was the 'mad scientist' incarnation, frequently throwing caution to the wind in favour of improvising wildly with high technology and complex (and highly explosive) chemistry. She continued the 'righting wrongs' theme of the Third Alchemist, but rarely took long-term Companions. Ultimately she died on an alternate, Steampunk Earth while attempting to thwart an army of clockwork men.

The Sixth Alchemist



This is the current incarnation, and adopted the steampunk aesthetic of his 'birth' world. Through coincidence or design, his appearence is very similar to his third self, though his methods rely more on intuition than careful analysis. He still invents things on the fly, like his Fifth incarnation, but they tend towards chemical concoctions rather than machines and explosives.

---

I would actually love to do this for all our Time Lords, but the appearances might be a bit tricky... ;)

hS

The Mechanic stuck his head out from behind a hatch and pushed his goggles up onto his forehead. "All fixed," he said. "Well, moderately fixed."

"You're making me twitchy," the Librarian muttered, not glancing up from his tablet computer. "Would it hurt you to at least look at the manual?"

"I had to construct a whole new temporal transfer junction and bypass the entire neutron flow system to get her working again," the Mechanic pointed out. "I'm writing the manual. This isn't a repair job – by the time I'm through, this TARDIS will be a whole new ship."

"And where's the fun in reading the manual, anyway?" the Artisan piped up, scrambling down a ladder from the upper gallery. "Running a TARDIS is an art, not some complicated science! You have to feel your way through it. If you don't love your TARDIS, you-"

"Oh, spare me." The Alchemist walked into the console room, white coat billowing behind him. "All this 'art and science are totally separate' business - the trick is to synthesise them. Logic and emotion aren't antithetical, no matter what Doctor Spock says."

"That's Mister Spock," the Librarian corrected, "or if you want to get technical, Science Officer Spock. At least until he became Ambassador Spock, and-"

"Yes, yes." The Alchemist tapped a button on the console and peered at the screen. "The stabilisers are still reading as down..."

"Really? Let me see." The Mechanic frowned at the data printout, then pulled a large rubber mallet from his toolbelt and tapped the screen sharply. "That should do it."

"Great!" exclaimed the Bluejay from where she perched on the railing. "So are we ready to go?"

"Not until the Betrayer gets here," the Librarian informed her.

"You really shouldn't call him that," the Speaker chided him, standing up at last from his position by the main doors. "It's exceptionally rude to refuse to use the name someone has chosen in favour of an insulting epithet."

"Oh, not more preaching!" the Bluejay protested. "I thought you got over this when you regenerated!"

"This is important," the Speaker told her. "I know what it's like to be forcibly given a nickname-"

"Well, they're accurate," the Artisan put in. "You like to give presentations, he betrays people all the time…" She trailed off in the face of the Speaker's glare.

"I ask you," the Speaker said, looking around the console room, "each of you - how would you feel if no-one would use your chosen name? If people kept calling you 'the Flighty'," he nodded at the Bluejay, "or 'the Oil-stained'," to the Mechanic, "or 'the Explosive'," to the Alchemist.

"Well, speaking for myself, I wouldn't mind-" the Alchemist began. Then one of the doors swung open, and the Strategist strode in. He was, as usual, dressed all in black, and already scowling.

"Well?" he asked in the sudden silence. "What are we waiting for?"

"A TARDIS requires a crew of six," the Librarian pointed out. "You were absent."

"I was planning," the Strategist corrected, "and you already have six crew members here."

"Oh, I'm just along for the ride," the Bluejay called chirpily. "Don't mind me."

"Hm." The Strategist crossed to the console and took his place in front of one of the six segments, standing next to the Alchemist and the Mechanic. "But I am here now," he pointed out. "So, I ask again - what are we waiting for?"

---

And later on…

The Librarian walked the corridors of the TARDIS, scowling at his computer, trying yet again to pin down the solution to the Riddle of the Osirians. So absorbed was he that he failed to notice the other person in the corridor until he walked into her. Books went flying everywhere, and the Time Lord was barely able to catch himself in time.

"My books!" exclaimed the women he had run into, scrambling to collect them all. She straightened up and glared at the Librarian. "Why don't you look where you're going?"

"Why don't you?" the Librarian retorted. "I'm hardly the only one who can be held responsible here."

"No, but you had the most choice," the woman said, flicking a hand at his computer (and nearly losing her stack of books again). "I can barely see round this lot at all – you just had to stop working for half a minute until you got where you were headed!"

"… fair enough," the Librarian agreed. "I apologise. The Librarian, by the way."

The woman looked puzzled. "Yes? What of it?"

"That's me," the Librarian clarified.

The woman snorted. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "I'm the Librarian. Now who are you really?"

"But I'm the Librarian," the (male) Librarian protested. "You can't steal my name!"

"I'm stealing your name?" the (female) Librarian exclaimed. "More like the other way round! Look at you – you're still on your first body!"

"Due to careful preservation of myself against danger, yes," the male said. Then he frowned, as a horrible thought began to dawn on him. "You don't think…?"

"No." The female shook her head. "No, that's ridiculous. Unthinkable."

"Absurd," the male supplied. "Inconceivable."

"Nonsensical," the female agreed. "To think that I could regenerate from-"

"That I could regenerate into-"

"Someone like you!" they finished together.

The male glared at the female, who returned the expression with equal distaste. "But no," he said at last. "Surely you'd remember if you'd ever been… well, me."

"Surely," she replied, but looked uncertain. "Except… well, there was a bit of trouble with my regeneration, actually. I was dead for a bit too long, and my memories… aren't what they used to be."

"That's awful!" the male Librarian exclaimed. "Losing your memories - that's like… like…"

"Like the burning of the Library of Alexandria," the female supplied. "I know. I've been trying to get them back, but nothing seems to work."

The First Librarian frowned and peered at his tablet. "You know," he said slowly, "I've been working on this riddle… the Riddle of the Osirians. And it seems to have something to do with memory…"

The Second Librarian's eyebrows rose. "The Osirians?" she repeated. "I have a book on them here somewhere – maybe it will help. Is there a table nearby…?"

---

Two notes:

-I'm not making a statement that the two Librarians are the same person - but I'm also not ruling it out. These characters are presumably not the same as any hypothetical PPC agents by the same names.

-I hope I've got everyone's gender right! This applies across both stories, naturally.

hS

As for the accuracy, yeah, I am often the diplomat amongst my friends. While the Speaker seems to be a little more...how do I put this...professional (?) then I am usually, I could definitely see myself saying something along those lines. I say that because it seems like he is constantly in the middle of a speech whenever he opens his mouth. Nice for characterization, but not my own personality, per-se. However, hanging in the shadows by the door, rather then standing with the group, is definitely something I have/would do.

You know, I kinda want to see more from these guys. It seems like an interesting group, and following their adventures through the universe would be cool. I'm not sure if I would write the next installment, but it would be nice. Perhaps the people who these Time Lords are based off of could be the beta readers for their next story, and insert little personality quirks that the other authors would not know about? Just a thought.

You were pretty accurate. I'm not always "by the book" so to speak. This is somewhat with my crocheting. I read the pattern to get an idea of the shape and then I do whatever I like. The results are usually nice, though there are some times where the end product looks terrible.

I like the way how you wrote the Artisan. The little "Art" verses "Science" spat was a lovely touch. I might try to write a short sketch. Good job.

(Yes, I stole Sergio's title. So what?)
Actually, pretty accurate, just replace 'book' with 'computer' half of the time. That said, I'm really tempted to pair this Librarian guy with Agent!Des - I'm planning on retiring Anebrin, since it feels I haven't had reasons enough to make him an Elf rather than just another guy, and he feels... flat. That said, I am planning on having the pair's next mission go wrong...

I like the balance that the characters have here. There are natural alliances and rivalries between the various characters, which you've used very well. The Art vs Science alignments being the most clearly identifiable.

In the modified DnD Alignment system that I use (just replace 'Good vs Evil' with 'Selfless vs Selfish' and you're there), I see the characters breaking down like this:

Lawful Selfless: The Speaker
Lawful Neutral: The Librarian
Lawful Selfish: N/A
Neutral Selfless: The Bluejay
True Neutral: The Alchemist
Neutral Selfish: The Strategist
Chaotic Selfless: The Mechanic
Chaotic Neutral: The Artisan
Chaotic Selfish: N/A

So, the group skews toward the Selfless, overall, and is fairly balanced on the 'Law vs Chaos' scale. Not a bad group, in my opinion. Plenty of room for differing points of view, and interpersonal conflict. There is also room for both a Lawful Selfish villain as well as a Chaotic Selfish one.

-Phobos, over-analyzing things since 1986

Considering that The Mechanic doesn't use manuals while real life me not only likes to double-check, but it is pretty much REQUIRED by aviation legislation...

Besides, as I said I am qualified to build aircraft while The Mechanic repairs stuff. Building and repairing are completely different things in aviation

But enough nitpicking. This piece was great!

I kind of like the idea of a Time Lord who chooses to go by 'The Betrayer'. Of course, the way to make that into a good story is for him to be a good guy. Yes, the Betrayer will make promises he has no intention of keeping, sell out people who think they're his friends, and invite alien species down onto helpless planets - but his lies are to manipulate people into doing what needs doing, he abandons his friends to protect them (even if that means they get captured - a prison cell is a pretty safe place!), and the aliens would have come anyway - this way, he can control the situation.

hS

I am always insanely happy when I hear of other people who think Lise Meitner is awesome. :D

Since I started watching Who I've been thinking about this, and for most of it I've been considering the Librarian (same as Desdendelle - I was wondering if anyone else would say that) who may end up being one of my future agents.

The Clever One might also do, because if anyone wanted to summon me, they would have to say, "Call the Clever One!" or "Where is the Clever One?" and I would be like "I'm here, and thank you, I think I am rather intelligent."

On a similar note, what if a Time Lord, theoretically, was named the Dalek?
"Dalek? WHERE? RUN AWAY!"
"No, not a Dalek, THE Dalek."
"Not HER again!"