The Nightmare Child
The Last Great Time War.
The single greatest conflict to ever blemish the universe, simultaneously existing throughout all of time and yet none of it.
Most of the species that inhabited the universe were unaware of the war, with only species of higher existence capable of observing the scarring upon the universe. Lesser civilisations remained oblivious to the conflict threatening to collapse time itself.
Those species that were involved, with the exception of the time lords, couldn't comprehend a sense of chronological progression in the war, such was the immensity of it, but in the general consensus it was still the first year of the war.
The doctor, however, had been fighting it for decades.
Not that he called himself that.
He'd long since abandoned that name, abandoned it in the knowledge of what he knew in his hearts would be necessary to end this war.
He was fighting at the Gates of Elysium, the chrono barrier that surrounded the system of Kasterborous. Despite the fleets of daleks, the relentless attacks of the horde of travesties, and bombardments from the armies of the Neverwere, the armies of Gallifrey were holding out.
That was, until the day of the Nightmare child.
"EXTERMINA-"
The dalek exploded, bronze casing exploding outwards in a flash. Past the smoking remains stepped the man known to the Time Lords now only as the Renegade. He shifted his Schism rifle into the crook of his arm as adjusted the scarf around his neck. His faded leather jacket flurried as he moved quickly down the corridor, out to the battlements from where the dalek had come.
He looked up at the fleets assembled above him. Dalek saucers were slowly shifting towards Elysium 18-T, the station upon which the time lord was stationed. As he watched, battle tardises flew overhead, launching antimatter strikes into the saucers. Good. The situation up there would be resolved shortly, attacks of this magnitude rarely made serious damage to the stations. The daleks inside however, still posed a threat. He moved back into the station, now moving at a run. He encountered no daleks on his way, and minutes later ran into the command centre. Soldiers passed him, whilst other time lords manned terminal stations, directing the defence systems protecting the station from orbital bombardment. Yelling orders was a Time Lord the Renegade knew only as The Commander. His face was flushed, his slick black hair drawn back and his face concerned.
"What troubles you?" The Renegade said as he approached him, picking up on his mood.
The commander glanced at him before gesturing down at a terminal before him. He looked down, scanning the screen quickly.
"A dalek fleet, yes I've seen it myself. Relax, soldier, it's nothing formidi-"
"It's not that, it's who's leading it." The Renegade was shocked to see genuine fear on the commanders face. "It's Davros."
The Renegade burst into the hanger, passing the battle tardises lined up in favour of his own Tardis, tucked neatly away in a corner as it had been since his arrival at the station. Following him into the console room were several cadets, the only soldiers he could find on his sprint down to the bay. He immediately started setting the destination, a station located far from the Gates of Elysium, out of orbit. Just a few miles from this station was the inbound fleet.
As he finished setting coordinates, one of the cadets caught his glance. "You're the Doctor. Aren't you?"
The Renegade stiffened. "No. Not anymore." he responded gruffly.
The cadet watched him in awe. "I've heard stories about you. The destroyer of Skaro, the oncoming storm-"
"Not anymore." The Renegade reiterated. The cadet fell silent, but his gaze remained on the aged Time Lord.
The Tardis shuddered as it materialised on the station. The Renegade flipped a few more switches before gesturing for the soldiers to follow him as he moved towards the door. "Stay alert. You all know why this station was abandoned."
"Then why are we here?" One of the cadets muttered.
"Because if that fleet gets any closer, we risk losing not only the station but the entire defence line. The fleet is being commanded by the creator of the daleks himself."
The silence following his words was palpable.
The room beyond the doors of the Tardis resembled Gallifreyan architecture, but showed its age in the outdated stylised curves, in the olden style of the terminals mounted in the walls. This was a station abandoned in the first days of the war. It now served only as a data relay, and as a scanner, utilising the long-range controlled sensors onboard.
The Time Lords moved slowly into the room, the Renegade leading the way, his Schism rifle raised. The last soldier closed the door, and the Renegade gestured them to follow, moving down a side hallway.
They moved swiftly, following signs directing them to the outer observation platform. Down one hall, took a right, then a left, across a bridge spanning a maintenance rift. The cadet at the back of the group nervously passed their cargo between his hands: an advanced form of target designator, which would allow them to mark the dalek fleet for a battle Tardis strike. As the station they were on would display no technological or temporal signatures, the fleet would ignore it, making it a strategic vantage point.
The Renegade's eyes flicked back up to the soldier holding the designator. Young, most likely between 100 and 200 years of age, in his second incarnation at a guess. Maybe entrusting the device to him had been a mistake.
The Renegade was ripped from his reverie by a form dropping from the ceiling above him. The grand architecture of his people saved him; the elevated ceiling gave him time to move back as the shape sliced at where he had been just before. The Time Lords behind him opened fire, Schism pulses firing towards the shape, yet none found purchase. The creature leapt up, swung from the ceiling and sent a heavy blow to the front soldier, who went spiralling into the wall. It then jumped the rest of the group, vanishing into the darkness behind them.
The Renegade lay on the cold floor of the station, catching his breath before getting to his feet wearily. The soldier who had been struck was being helped to his feet by the others, and he seemed relatively unharmed.
"What in Rassilon's name was that thing?" One asked.
The Renegade sighed. "That, soldier, was one of the Skaro degredations."
As they proceeded forwards, still on alert for more attacks, the Renegade explained the history of the Degredations. Remnants from a bygone age, they were all that remained of the original Kaled form. The original daleks. Those who had not been converted into the chilling machines known as Daleks had been left as weakened, mutated versions of their original forms back on Skaro. In the early days of the time war, they'd been repurposed; genetically engineered and augmented with technology to create terrifying cyborg-like abominations that served as dalek strike units. The station they were on had been overrun by Daleks, but it seemed that instead of stationing actual Daleks there they'd simply infested the station with Degredations.
They approached the observation platform, and they exchanged glances before slowly entering the room. Their hesitance paid off; the entranceway to the observation platform was occupied by no less than 8 Degradations. The Time Lords opened fire, Schism pulses tearing into the unaware creatures. Three were obliterated instantly, grey flesh and rusted metal flying all over the room. The other moved immediately, leaping towards the soldiers. The Renegade dove into the room, catching another with his shots and turning away to avoid the explosion of flesh. The other 4 Degradations landed in between him and the other Time Lords. The room erupted into a mess of slicing and Schism pulses. He shot at two, his shots just missing their marks, and moved back to avoid the swings of the nearest foe. He heard yells from the others, and put all his concentration into the form in front of him. The Degradation leapt at him, knocking him back. He rolled back, onto one knee and fired a pulse that severed the left arm of the creature. It reared its head back and screeched, and he fired another shot into its chest. The Degradation exploded, and he moved to engage the other ones.
One of the remaining three had already been downed, but the other two were leaping erratically, narrowly avoiding shots. Then one moved like lightning - and sliced cleanly through the youngest cadet. He gasped as the blade of an arm severed his internal organs. The Degradation kept moving, leaping away as the young Time Lord started to emit yellow light, his hands releasing a gaseous form as his regeneration began. But just as the explosive regeneration began, the Degradation leapt in, and before the other soldiers could stop it, stabbed the regenerating Time Lord. A shockwave of energy shot out, obliterating the Degradation, and the cadet fell to the floor. The final Degradation was caught off guard, and shots from the Renegade and another cadet sent it back to the dust.
The Time Lords moved towards their fallen comrade, but all knew it was far too late. The Renegade shook his head regretfully. Too many. Too many had been lost to this accursed war.
No more.
He turned away and walked towards the outer platform. Stepping out onto the rusted metal platform, he looked up to where the fleet of unmistakable Dalek saucers were making rapid speed. Soon they would pass the station and move for Elysium 18-T. The Renegade glanced over his shoulder to see the other soldiers passing onto the platform. The one closest passed the designator device to him, and he levelled it at the oncoming fleet. Seconds passed as he slowed his breathing, prepared to fire, and-
A wave of pure sound hit the group, sending the Renegade reeling backwards, gripping the railing for support. Behind him the other Time Lords had fallen to the floor. The sound was nearly incoherent, yet could be identified as a primal, animalistic roar.
Behind the Dalek fleet, space shifted. Yet it wasn't space. A form, a behemoth that blotted out the constellations behind it, was moving. Towards the Dalek fleet.