Authors Notes: Some clarifications. This story is set before the 13th Black Crusade in the 40k universe, and shortly after the events of Remembrance of the Daleks in the Whoverse, though naturally since this will involve time travel I also plan to have some chapters set in the Horus Heresy and the like. The Daleks presented in this story are in the transition between being old series Daleks and the uber-Time War Daleks we saw in the New Series. This story will also include Lovecraft lore, but this is because the Great Old Ones are actually officially a part of the Doctor Who universe, as is Lovecraft himself, as he appears as a character in a 8th Doctor novel set in Haiti.


The people of Janus IX never knew why they were the way they were. It had just happened. The very nature of their transformation into something less than human meant that they never had enough spare time to launch a scientific inquiry into exactly why it was that they hungered for blood. Losing any interest in technology unrelated to the acquisition of said blood, the once human colonists had simply ceased to contact the rest of the universe, and as is too often the case in a universe torn by strife, the Human Empire had chosen the exact same moment to start ignoring it's far-flung colonies. So when the Daleks came for them, they had not the slightest idea what or who they had become.

They would never know, but the Daleks would unwittingly solve the puzzle of the humans who had grown horns and cloven feet.


"EX-TERMIN-ATE!"

Blasts of bright, deadly energy cut down the onrushing horde of howling human-like-things. The Daleks' bellowed out their disgust and anger at the incoming tide, punctuating each confirmed kill with enraged cries of "EX-TERMIN-ATE! EX-TERMIN-ATE!" Seemingly heedless to the futile nature of their assault, the things that should have been humans continued to shower the Daleks with spears, axe blows and stones. Occasionally a spray of bullets from particularly lucky tribesmen would patter down on the heads of the Daleks as they fired their guns madly into the air. Sharp teeth burnt into ash as they attempted to bite through neck bins and feast on the mutant inside, repulsed by the Daleks shearing hot shield. Their red eyes stared madly at the implacable metal beings who had already scattered their world beyond recognition with asteroid bombardments, animal noses sniffing eagerly at the smell of the alien blood within.

This was all very odd, most races would have been reduced to a state of abject terror at this point, and yet these foul creatures fought as if they had no idea they were only the last few hundreds out of millions. One former colonist whose vocal cords still resembled that of his original species opened his mouth to holler something unintelligible about 'Gods' and 'Thrones.' His comrades responded to this nonsensical statement with a throng of animal yelps and whines that may have been approval. Revolted, the Daleks pulled away from the ground and began to bombard the surprisingly stubborn inferior beings with blazing bombs launched from their fenders. Unable to even batter at their invincible conquerers, the tribe of survivors, many of whom were presumably women and children, began to scatter in what looked like an effort to find cover. However, it was more likely they were looking for something else to attack. Some were seen attacking each other or feasting on the dead.

None escaped.


That was the routine, anyway, and not the Daleks main objective in coming to Janus IV, which was a strategically insignificant planet in the Daleks many fronted war with everything not Dalek. No, the reason the Daleks had come here was scientific in nature. More specifically, archaeological.

The Red Dalek, analysing the combat situation on the burning world below through the eyes of a thousand Drones, turned round to announce to the defeat of primitive mutant tribesmen. It had been a week since the first Drones had descended upon the planet in the wake of an preliminary asteroid bombardment that had flattened what remained of the wayward colonies cities, which were in ruins in any case.

Unneeded, but routine demanded it.

"ANTI-DALEK RESISTANCE CRUSHED! RESEARCH SITE SECURE" blared the Red Dalek.

"RESEARCH WILL COMMENCE! SCIENCE DALEK WILL DESCEND TO THE SURFACE OF THIS WORLD" rumbled the Supreme whom the Emperor had granted control of this mission.

"I OBEY" replied the Scientist "RESEARCH SHALL COMMENCE INTO THEORETICAL OLD ONES TELEPORTATION SYSTEM!"


The Time Lords had theorised that the Great Old Ones had arrived, nay, fled from another universe in which they had played a similar one to that of the Time Lords, bringing order and aiding the development of lower species. To the Time Lords, this raised interesting issues about the nature of the multiverse and possibility of exploration beyond the bounds of the universe itself. To the Daleks, it simply raised the truly appalling prospect of a whole array of universes full of not-Daleks.

Niether race had much concerned themselves with what had driven the Old Ones to flee their original universe, and since the Great Old Ones had long since transformed into insane monsters, they were never asked. The Time Lords assumed the universe from which they had come had simply ceased to exist.

Nothing could be further from the truth, and the unusual nature of reality around the planet Janus IV had altered the Daleks to the prospect that one of the Great Old Ones portals was still operational.

Someone, a Health and Safety assessment officer perhaps, might have wondered why if the portal was still operational, the Great Old Ones had never used it. They might have deducted that it lead no where they wanted to go.

The Daleks, as far as we know, made no such deduction, and if they did they hadn't cared. They, after all, were a Race who had ruled Three Galaxies and who had destroyed countless civilisations, and fear did not come naturally to them. After all, it wasn't as if the Oncoming Storm would be on the other side, was it? And what could be worse than Him?


Space Hulks are not truly space ships, but are better understood as huge scrap heaps that are able to travel through time and space in a highly erratic and often frankly bizarre manner. Every ship that braves the Warp risks the chance that it will appear years into the future, in the past and/or lightyears away from it original destination. Every ship takes the risk that it will emerge from with it's form twisted and it's Machine Spirit corrupted, it's crew mutated and Captain insane. Every ship risks it's Gellar fields failing and the creatures of the Warp swarming it's decks and cargo holds. On a Space Hulk, there is no such risk of any such things happening.

They are certain to happen.

Hulks are formed not by design or reason, but are the amalgamated wrecks of the countless space faring vessels that the warp has consumed over the millennia. Within the confines of a Hulk, one can find the remains of ships from the Horus Heresy, the Fall of the Eldar, the Great Crusade and the War in Heaven. Artefacts thought lost for eternity are stumbled upon and ignored by hapless adventurers. The forbidden fortresses of ancient civilisations become nests for Genestealers, and advanced technologies long since lost are looted by piratical war bands.

This makes them an ideal mode of transportation and resupply for those who are able to survive the tides of the Warp.


"Is this what we are looking for, Son of Magnus?"

Amentep make a tiny gesture of irritation with his left hand, not taking kindly to being interrupted in the middle of his trance. Though his armour was the bright blue and gold of his own Legion, a dash of black paint on his right shoulder pad showed that he was bound in service to the Black Legion and it's Warmaster. He wasn't the only one in the War band of another Legion, but he was the most recent of the 'acquisitions' and had yet to take kindly to his new comrades.

"No" he replied, his voice soft and etherial, unlike that of most of his 'Brothers' "This is not what we are looking for."

"Then why don't we-" interjected Xanth, before Amentep's anger gently rippled through the War bands brains. A reminder of the immense power he still wielded despite being reduced to the status of Abaddon's thrall.

"This is infinitely more valuable than what we were looking for" Amentep continued, his artificial voice level and calm despite his anger "This section of the Hulk contains Xenos technology far older than only the most Ancient of Eldar artefacts. Some of it bares resemblance to Eldar wrath bone, some of it to Slanni artefacts, other to the handiwork of the Jokaero. If we were to bring even a thimble of this to the Cult of the Void Dragon, we would be richly rewarded."

"We are not here to get the rewards of the Dark Mechanicus, Sorcerer" Holk's mechanised voice growled threateningly out of his helm "We are here to do the Warmaster's will and attain the Black Cube."

"Such blind obedience to the letter of our orders is truly typical of an Iron Warrior" sighed Amentep "Does it not occur to you that the Warmaster might be pleased if we bring him a additional gift?"

"I am Iron Warrior no more" Holk rumbled "I am Black Legion."

"So literal too" Amentep yawned "one has no problem seeing why your Legion has such little psychic potential."

Holk made a strangled sound of barely controlled rage. Any other member of the War band he would have cut down in an instant for such insults, but Amentep was different. Sorcerers were a 'strategic asset' with status far above a mere Aspiring Champion.

"Well" Xanth cut in "Perhaps we should-"

"We will continue the search for the Black Cube" announced a inhumanly deep yet humorous voice from behind them, amplified from the speakers of great suit of black terminator armour covered in white runic script. Amentep froze stock still, and Holk's armour crashed as he snapped to attention. "Once we have acquired the artefact, then we will consider returning for some of this supposedly valuable Xeno tech, but only then." The figure advanced towards Amentep, pistons hissing and boots thudding, and the warriors of the Warband parted before him. "It surprises me that even one of your Legion does not fully appreciate the power of the Black Cube, Amentep. It is the relic of an age when our Divine Masters of Chaos fought against powers far greater and more terrible than the False Emperor and his lackeys, from an age when the Gods were young and the great races of our age only semi-formed. An age so distant and mysterious not even a Sorcerer of the Thousand Sons knows anything of it. The Black Cube was a weapon capable of unleashing unimaginable destruction that likes of which was unknown even during the age of Horus himself. All of this the Warmaster has seen, and all this the Warmaster has shown to me."

"But my Lord!" Amentep's unearthly voice took an a wavering, pleading quality "We cannot be sure that we will ever find this place again. The Hulk is so vast-"

"That we will have to risk" Serghar Targost cut over the pyskers protests "Much as it grieves a Son of Magnus to abandon the secrets of the distant past, the needs of the coming Black Crusade are paramount over all other considerations. The Gods themselves demand it!" Targost spoke with the kind and understanding air of the complete fanatic who not only sees the world only through the narrow confines of his faith, but also finds is highly amusing that others do not see things the way he does.

"Yes, my Lord..." Amentep bowed his head down in submission.

"Perhaps you will be content to examine the technology as we pass it by" Targost added as he marched on deeper into the darkness of the Hulk.


The Gateway was hidden deep under the surface of the planet, but it had not been hard for the Daleks to identify it's position. A Psyche Dalek, who had first brought the strange energies emitting from the planet to the attention of the Dalek Scientific Division, had followed the strange energy to it's source, leading the assigned Science Dalek and a guard of Drones to the Gate. The closer they got to the structure, the more alarming the amount of energy pouring from it became.

But the Daleks did not care if they were endangering themselves, if they died they would send others.

It had taken months to set up the equipment that would allow the Daleks to establish control over the ancient and complex Old One technology, but the genius of Davros lived on in his genetic children, and the Daleks had finally reached the point whereby they would be able to enter.

The Psyche Dalek stared at the Gateway. Staring was not something unusual for a Dalek to do, but this Psyche who was not yet named had something bothering him. It was as if voices, non-Dalek voices, were speaking to him. Only he couldn't hear them, yet he could at the same time. This was illogical. He also couldn't seem to look away from the Gateway. This was also illogical.

He had no idea how to express what he was experiencing to the others, this too was illogical. So he said nothing, and stared.

"PSYCHE DALEK WILL RESPOND!"

He snapped out of his strange trance, and saw that the Science Dalek was beside him.

"I AM FULLY FUNCTIONAL. WARP ENERGY OUTPUT ONLY PRODUCES A MILD DISTRACTION FOR THE PSYCHICALLY AWARE" said the Psyche, wondering where he'd got that from. He'd certainly not known that a minute ago. A strange feeling that he'd been somehow disconnected from his fellows nagged at the edge of his mind, yet was still connected to the Network. Protocol insisted that at the first sighs of instability he should report himself and be stored in the Asylum.

He did not. That was illogical.

"PSYCHE DALEK, OPEN THE PORTAL!"

"I OBEY!"