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“ONE VIRTUE, AND A THOUSAND CRIMES – THE SWASHBUCKLING TIME LORD YOU NEVER KNEW YOU NEEDED”

Neil Gaiman’s One Virtue, and a Thousand Crimes is a lockdown-era gem—an all-too-brief but utterly electric tale that gifts us our first real encounter with the Corsair, the roguish Time Lord referenced in The Doctor’s Wife. We were told the Corsair was wild, charming, dangerous, and gender-fluid long before the show began exploring that side of Time Lords in earnest. Now, in this short and swashbuckling escapade, we finally get to see her in action.

And what action it is. The Corsair storms onto the page with a parrot on her shoulder and a pirate-ship-shaped TARDIS under her command, mid-heist, as she attempts to nick none other than the Hand of Omega—yes, that Hand—from a tower at the behest of the First Doctor. That twist alone is a glorious callback to Remembrance of the Daleks and immediately connects this tale to the wider mythos. If you’re a Classic Who devotee, that moment alone will make you grin like a madman in a blue box.

A PIRATE LIFE FOR HER

The Corsair here isn’t just a Time Lord with a cool tattoo—she’s a full-blown spacefaring pirate, equal parts Jack Sparrow, River Song, and Romana. Gaiman wastes no time establishing her roguish charm, sharp wit, and capacity for utter chaos. There’s a wonderful, chaotic rhythm to the storytelling that mirrors the character herself: breathless, fast-moving, but always laced with a mischievous undercurrent of heart.

The imagery is utterly delightful. As she barrels down a seemingly endless spiral staircase, dodging guards with the casket in her arms and her parrot squawking commentary, you can almost see the comic book panels unfolding in real time. It’s as much a tone piece as it is a narrative, and Gaiman's knack for surreal detail and witty language makes the whole thing sing.

And it’s not just pulpy fun. The relationship between the Corsair and her parrot is surprisingly warm, and her rebellious moral compass—stealing things to help people—is sketched in vividly. For a story that flies by in a flash, it’s remarkably rich with character.

THE FINAL FLIGHT

Just as you fall head over heels for this gloriously unpredictable character, Gaiman hits you with the sucker punch: a later incarnation appears briefly, as the tale closes in on the Corsair’s final hours before dying in the Time War. It’s brief, melancholic, and haunting—a poignant reminder that even the most wild-hearted adventurers can be swallowed by Gallifrey’s darker days.

That tonal shift from gleeful heist to tragic epilogue is masterfully handled, and it adds emotional weight to what might otherwise have just been a fun one-off.

THE ADVENTURE WE’LL NEVER GET

There’s a bittersweetness to reading this story now. The Corsair is a character begging for more—more stories, more worlds, more reckless plans and stylish exits. But in light of the revelations about Gaiman that now cloud his professional legacy, the likelihood of this character returning in official media seems vanishingly slim. That makes this short story feel like both a spark of promise and a eulogy.

📝THE BOTTOM LINE: 10/10

One Virtue, and a Thousand Crimes is a punchy, playful, and poignant tale that does more in a few pages than many full-length stories manage. The Corsair practically leaps off the page, stealing not just the Hand of Omega but the whole damn spotlight. It’s a joyous heist, a thrilling chase, and a sudden heartbreak—all wrapped in Gaiman’s signature lyrical style. A must-read for any fan of rogue Time Lords, even if it leaves you wishing for the spin-off that never was.