The TARDIS wasn't behaving properly. She was having one of her fits, he supposed as he desperately tried to control her. It was as if there were turbulance in the Vortex… but there was no sign of temporal disturbance. The Doctor was flung across the consol, grabbing onto one of the levers in a desperate attempt to righten himself. Blinking, his eyes widened. He'd just issued the ship to land. Letting go, he was thrust backwards so that he fell against the railing behind him. He stayed there, the ground beneath him too unsteady to attempt to rise, clinging to the railing like his life depended on it. They'd come in for a landing, it wouldn't be the best, but they'd land safely… he hoped. There was soon the signature squawk as the TARDIS came to a stop. The ground gradually stopped trembling, and the Doctor pulled himself up on wobbly knees. "Alright, old girl," he said, running one hand along the railing as if stroking her. "What is it?"

Checking a few of the gauges, he discovered the atmosphere outside to be breathable and without toxins. That was a plus. He didn't like being places where he couldn't get out of the TARDIS without a spacesuit. They were fun for a short while, but wherever the TARDIS landed without him in control he seemed to stay a while. He straightened his tweed jacket and ran his fingers through his hair once, bouncing on his heels, then pushed open the beautiful blue doors.

He stepped out onto metal flooring which vibrated with power. The gravity, too, was artificial. He instantly suspected he was on a ship. The room was completely empty save for himself, and he realized he was in a cargo hold. The Time Lord's hazel eyes swept across the hold, confused. The hold was completely empty. There was nothing. Or… nothing but his TARDIS. That was unusual. Normally a ship like this would be filled with emergency supplies at least. Unless… he ran towards the door, and it slid open with a sharp click. Still there was no sign of life.

Taking off down the hallway, he began to wonder what had happened. There was an inconsistency in the way the engines purred… as if the old ship was straining to keep flying. The interior itself looked as if it had taken a beating, and much of it seemed to be put together with a variety of different parts - some he regognized and others he didn't. Perhaps the crew had been attacked, but by what? Whoever was here, if anyone was still alive, they needed help.

He continued walking down the hall. It was as if the ship was dead… as if there were not a soul aboard. It was a ship devoid of life. Just as he began to figure his way to the bridge, he heard the sound of humming machinery.

But this was not just any sound, it was a far too familiar sound. It inspired nightmares. He knew it instantly, and his hearts beat faster. Daleks. If they were here, then there was no telling what could happen… although, he supposed, they no longer knew who he was. He had Oswin to thank for that… the thought brought a bittersweet feeling to his soul. At least now he had the upper hand. If they didn't know who he was he had the ability to remain unpredictable.

An eyestalk rounded the corner, its blue light flickering wildly. It was not long before the whole of the bronze casing was facing towards him, gun and sucker arm twitching madly. "The Doctor is detected! The Doctor is here!" it screeched to its commanders.

He couldn't help but to frown. Today was just not his lucky day. He had already grabbed his sonic, though he knew it would be useless, and contemplated running back to the TARDIS, but what position would that put him in? He could run away, but what about the possible people? The Daleks had to be the one that had attacked, or perhaps were in the process of attacking this ship. They could be dead, he supposed, but he didn't want to take that chance. Even saving one life would be better then leaving them all to die at a Dalek's gunpoint.

However, that plan was ruled out when a second of the tank-like creatures glided up to him and pressed its sucker against his back. He felt it grip him tightly, and he knew he was unable to escape. They hadn't exterminated him, however, and he was thankful for that. It meant they wanted something from him, and whatever it was they wanted was important to some plan of theirs. "Alright, then," he said, trying to twist around despite the knowledge he wasn't going anywhere. "I'll listen. You can let go now."

"Do as he says," a voice barked. The Doctor fell to the ground. He quickly jumped to his feet as agile as a cat, but winced and rubbed his shoulder some only a minute later. His eyes met the eyestalk of the Dalek that had spoken. The Doctor couldn't help but gawk at the sight of an old Imperial Dalek facing him. They had all been destroyed years ago, though he supposed this one looked a little worse for ware. "You have arrived early, Doctor. We were not expecting you for another of your hours."

"Yeah? I'm not known for being on time… but usually I'm late," he said, trying to regain some dignity after having fallen. "It doesn't hurt to be early, though, does it? What's your plan this time, or are you just raiding a vessel purely to destroy it?"

The Imperial Dalek largely ignored him. "This ship is mine, Doctor. It was taken bloodlessly. The parts from this vessel were obtained when it crashed on our Asylum approximately one year ago. The passengers did not survive."

One did, the Doctor thought bitterly, realizing that the Dalek was talking of the now destroyed Asylum planet - the same one where Oswin had been cruelly converted into a Dalek, the same planet which she had died on to save he and his companions. A ship had gotten in… a ship had gotten out. That was how this Imperial Dalek had survived. His glare grew stronger, and he grew even more wary. If these were Asylum Daleks, then he could not so easily predict their next moves nor their purpose. "That's not bloodlessly," he stated in a low, hateful whisper.

"The Asylum killed them. There was no hope in saving them. It would have been a waste of time, and Time, Doctor, was not something we had in abundance. It is something that still threatens to defeat us."

"Good," the Doctor said, raising his voice. "Because I never want to see another one of your kind again."

"You do not understand, Doctor," the Dalek continued, its voice even and staccato. "Come. We will show you."

He didn't much care to be shown around, but he felt the Dalek that had been previously grabbed him push him some to get moving. The Doctor would not let the creature tell him what to do. The man picked up his feet and walked with dignity towards wherever the golden and white Dalek was taking him. All the while his mind turned over a plan of escape.