Hey all! Welcome to a new side of the Whovian Universe! I have some chapters typed up in advance, I just wait for you guys to review or show you're interested before I post it. So let me know honest feedback, would you?

Disclaimer: All references to Doctor Who or it's ideas are for pure entertainment purposes. I make no profit from this (unfortunately). Kyle, though, is mine.

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I glanced up at the professor with a frown; noticing his flashing right eye with a morbid fascination. Someone must have forgotten to plug him in properly the night before. He prattled on, obviously oblivious to the class' lack of participation (or interest) as I shifted my weight to the back legs of my chair. The class wasn't bad, per say, but it was vaguely repetitive to every other history course we had been required to take since level three. It was all the same- the rebellion, the saving, the jury, and the cultivation of the new world. We all understood everything that could be taught it by now, we told ourselves. There was nothing more to it.

Still, the air hung heavy as the buzzer went off and I collected my tablet, tucking it into my green Earth army jacket. No one could deny that they were nervous for the collection tonight. I wasn't too nervous, though. Why should I be? I wasn't a male, nor did I have brothers that I knew of. I had Niall, of course, but he had escaped from the drawing for so long that his chances were great. Plus, he was only a friend. We weren't meant to be paired.

The drawing had begun at the very beginning of the cultivation of the new world, years ago. The council decided on basic, fundamental laws such as separating the ages of people, giving each age a level to live on until they turned fifty. No one had done it yet, though- no one had reached fifty. So few males ever avoided the collection until level forty and so many females were lost to childbirth each level after being paired to their male. Still, it was something to aim for.

I had never really known Tom. He was collected when we were only level ten, six levels ago. I had seen him in passing and I knew he was one of many who liked to sit under the level sign at the end of each year to watch the number grind up one digit. I knew he liked Cassandra but Lilia liked him. I knew the Masters would have likely paired him with Lilia- they were a good match. Her pale features with his darker skin would have contrasted wonderfully on the wall of pairs. Still, I was almost glad that hadn't worked out. I was fond of Lilia and I would hate to see her move out to the paired floor. No one ever keeps in contact once you moved out.

I pressed my thumb onto my scanner and grimaced at the loud squeal the door emitted when opening. Though annoying, it was good to have. No one could enter without my knowing- the door would wake me up before they would have a chance to attack. Not that anyone would, of course. Everything was always safe here. Merely a precaution.

Walking over to the kitchen, I glanced at the menu for dinner and sighed to myself. Pasta. Again. You would think that they could at least create a good cooking bot, but no. We didn't need to enjoy the meal. We just needed it to survive. Still, I never understood that lesson. I was sure the Masters ate what they pleased, so why couldn't we?

Grabbing the warm dish, I carried it over to my sleeping cot and sat down, facing the announcement wall. It was moments like these that I almost wished I were a male. They didn't have private rooms; they all got to sleep together in one big room. It was only the girls who had individual cells, so to speak. The Masters insisted it was for our protection, but it made me edgy. If it was for protection alone, why would the doors shut with a resounding click each night and lock us in until the next morning? It wasn't like anything from the outside could attack us; we were in deep space surrounded by feet of pure metal.

The screen flickered to life as the regular announcements cycled through. New pairs, births, deaths, and evictions flashed by just fast enough to make it a challenge to read. I could imagine all the boys in their quarters going quiet, eyes locked on the screen as they wondered to themselves if they would be selected next. If they would be taken to never again return to their level.

Slowly, the screen turned a blood red and a mechanical voice came over the speakers, as always.

"Today will be collection 9,742. All levels are submitted. Pairs are not exempt from the collection. There will be no second drawings. Those evicted are not entered in the collection. If chosen, follow the path lights to the choice location of collection. The drawing will begin … now."

With that, the red screen flashed to what looked like a blank countdown clock. There were only four spaces this time. So Niall wouldn't be drawn, once again. That was nice. I could imagine the faces of some of my fellow level sixteen males with four letter name's faces. John, Otis, Mile, Kire, and Fred were just a few I could picture in my head, leaning forward with wide eyes and their jaws dropped.

Slowly, the first letter appeared on the screen. I wondered to myself if the Masters purposely did it slowly, just to antagonize the males in waiting. A white K slid on and I tilted my head. Now only Kire had reason to worry on this level. No one knew the names of anyone on any of the other levels until they were put up so there was no way to make guesses at other possibilities. No names were even repeated- there just weren't enough of us to require repetition.

A Y appeared next to the previous letter and I felt my interesting slipping. No one I knew would be collected- so why should I care who was taken? Still, you could never really be sure when the Masters would choose to look into your room so you had to at least act interested; appear to be so at least until the drawing was over.

L joined the two other letters a few seconds later. Now for the finale.

"K-Y-L has been announced. The final letter will be added momentarily. If chosen, follow the path lights until you reach the choice location of collection," the voice added in a monotonous voice. "The final letter tonight will be…"

I pondered my history assignment for the night.

"… announced now…"

I took a bite of the meager pasta in my lap.

"…The final letter is…"

I glanced up at the screen and waited patiently.

"…E."

K-Y-L-E. That was a funny name for a boy. Whoever he was, I didn't envy him. Tonight was not his night.

"Kyle is the recipient of tonight's choosing. Locating Kyle," the bot told all the listeners.

I always liked this part in a little morbid way. Not to see their sad, hopeless faces, of course. I hated that part. But just to see the ages the ship carried. Sometimes you could even get a glance of the entire room when he moved- you could see other males in the background, standing respectfully far away as the male walked to his destined location and, inevitably, his death.

"Located. Attaching camera," the voice said.

I could hear the silence of the room relaying through the speakers as the camera found this "Kyle." It made sense; the rooms were always dead silent. I poked at my pasta for a moment before looking up at the screen, hoping to catch a new, interesting age.

Only to see my own face staring back at me.

It wasn't until then that I remembered.

My name was Kyle.

And names were only used once on the S.S. Dalek.