(Author's Note: The song in this chapter is "Like A Stone" by Audioslave. Enjoy the next part, its all down hill from here )
As soon as his feet touched the cold, metal floor, Jack knew he was in serious trouble. The stark surrounding glowed with pale yellow lights, and the metal walls were decorated with round balls jutting out every few feet. Dalek architecture. Perfect. Today was just getting better.
The dark hall ahead was lit with bright blue lights, and the Daleks rolled into view, their eye stalks trained on him. Their guns wiggled, pointing at his head and chest, not that it truly mattered where they hit. Dalek guns killed no matter what.
Except for him, maybe. Jack wasn't quite the normal human, and he used that to his advantage. He was proven death-proof; he normally just died for a few moments and woke back up. Sure it hurt but...beyond that it was just something that slowed him down more than anything.
He still didn't like taking his chances, however. He never knew; maybe there was something capable of killing him and he didn't know it. Maybe he just needed to die in the right way. Or perhaps it was a limited number. Not to mention that it all felt like having a stroke, heart-attack, and an aneurism at the same time. Not a lot of fun. So, despite his dislike for surrender, he put his hands in the air.
The four Daleks at his front rolled to him, while two more came from behind. They were really rolling out the welcome wagon.
"You know, if you guys wanted to talk, you could have just called me. I mean, kidnapping is a bit too strong. Gentle touch is the way into this guy's heart," he smiled widely. Daleks hated smiles. Well, they hated everything but especially that.
"Silence!" one of them screeched. "You are Jack Harkness."
"Last time I checked." He shrugged.
"You are a known associate of the Doctor!"
"I haven't seen him in a few years, boys. You know how he rolls – comes in, blows up your Crucible, doesn't even leave his number on the dresser."
"Davros requests your audience," a different, deeper-voiced Dalek announced. "He will not be denied."
"Davros?" Jack snorted. "Didn't we blow him up already? I could'a sworn I watched him go up in a ball of fire." He didn't know how the creator of the Daleks kept coming back, but it was annoying as all hell. Why couldn't any of the Doctor's enemies just stay dead?
"Davros is alive! Davros is superior!" one screamed
"Davros is supreme. Hail Davros, the Great Exterminator!" another called.
"Right – blah blah my dad's best, gotcha. Well let's go. Might as well get it over with."
Jack was promptly lead through the hallway and into a cold, den-like room with screens peppered along the walls and great wires hanging from the ceiling.
Davros stood...or, rather, sat...before them, flanked by two silver Daleks who somehow seemed to be glaring at Jack, in spite of their lack of features.
"Boys," said Jack in greeting, tipping an invisible hat. "Davros. Nice to see you looking so lively. In fact, you're looking so good that I almost forgive this rude intervention of yours. I was rather busy, you know."
Davros snarled. "Do not play games with me, Harkness. You're here because of the Doctor."
"Aren't I always?"One of the Daleks behind him suddenly rammed its gun into his back, causing him to yelp and stumble forward in spite of himself. "Tetchy," said Jack, rubbing his spine - where there would soon surely be a very large bruise. He returned his gaze to Davros, his smirk souring a little. "So, what has the old Doc' done this time, eh?"
"My Daleks are being corrupted! They are turning from their purpose and going rogue," growled Davros.
"Heretics!" cried the gaggle of Daleks around them.
"What's the matter? They don't think daddy loves them anymore?" asked Jack, mock sympathy oozing from his lips. Then, in a flash, he was dead. After a moment or two, and several vibrations of crippling pain running through his body, Jack sat up again, sucking in a sharp breath, all traces of joviality gone. Jack got shakily to his feet and brushed himself down.
"Okay, I get it. No more jokes. Tell me about these...rogues, then."
"Heretics!" screeched the Dalek to Davros' left. Then, they all started in.
"Traitors!"
"Scum!"
"Scum!"
"Sub-Dalek!"
"HERETICS!" They all screemed in unison.
"Enough!" snapped Davros. His glowing eye never left Jack.
"The Doctor is the cause of this. He must be. Who else could do such a thing?"
"I don't know," said Jack. "I don't know if anyone else could do it, but what I do know is that it can't be the Doctor. Don't you think if he could have turned daddy's little monsters away from you then he would have by now?"
"Or else he's found something new!" Davros' metal hand shot out, pointing accusingly at Jack.
"Me?!"
"You know! And because we cannot kill you, you will be kept prisoner until such time as you reveal the Doctor's secrets! Let's see how long it takes for you to release the frivolity of your loyalties to the Time Lord. Take him away!" In another flash, Jack was dead again.
When he woke up, he had been stripped and shoved into shapeless grey clothes. The room was the size of a small shower, and there were no windows, no vents...no air. He had only just enough room to sit, but not quite enough to stand fully erect. Jack pounded on the wall, but it didn't budge. He slammed himself against it.
"DAVROS!" he screamed. He looked down at his wrist. "Damn it!" He yelled. The Vortex manipulator was gone. The Daleks couldn't have that. They already possessed Time Corridor technology. They didn't need more. He had to get out of here.
The ceiling suddenly chuffed open. Glaring down at him were a pair of ape like men in dirty rags, Ogrons. They picked up a bucket and dumped it's slimy, chunky contents down on him. Food, he guessed. He had no plans to eat. Just as soon as it opend it slammed shut.
Ahead of him, a blue screen appeared, showing Davros' disgusting face, contorted in a wretched smile.
"I dicided to feed you, as I don't need you too weak to speak when you find yourself ready," he mocked, "I can take that away."
"Ogrons? Really? And I thought I was stuck in the past." Jack spat back. The chamber lit with electric light, as a hissing started. In a blinding flash, with terrible pain tearing into him, Jack died again. He had a feeling that was going to be doing that a lot.
The lime green time rotor bobbed up and down rhythmically. The control room of this TARDIS was bathed in dark blue lights from the ceiling, illuminating it softly. The walls of the circular room were lined with shelves almost completely, leaving only room for a few doors.
Many were lined with book after book of all shape and size. Others had a variety of oddities: strange jars full of floating organs, bowls of herbs and berries, even a few skulls alien in nature. One shelf was dominated by dismantled electronics. Some were weapons, other robotic parts; one would see the torso of a Cyberman next to a few panels from a Mechinoid, below a systematically deconstructed Ood sphere. A few racks on one wall contained three guitars. One was a stark black and white color, that almost looked like a modified Yamaha SVG 800, but a strange grouping of antennae stuck from the top of the fret board. Below that was a bright red one of the same make, through it seemed to have been crossed with an amp, creating some musical monstrosity that was barely a guitar anymore. The final was comparatively boring; bright blue with red letters spelling "Arm The Homeless" – nothing sonic about it.
Ethereal music played from this control room, in time with the bobbing time rotor.
"On a cobweb, afternoon, in a room full of emptiness, by a freeway, I confess, I was lost in the pages…
Of a book, full of dead, reading how we'll die alone, and if we're good, we'll lay to rest, anywhere we want to go…" crooned The Time Lady.
"In you're house, I long to be, room by room, patiently, I wait for you there, like a stone, I wait for you there, alo-"
The shrill alarm sliced through the sounds of her guitar, causing the Corsair to switch the music abruptly off. She took her feet down off the console and stood, setting aside the instrument, this one a black Stratocaster, enscribed with the words "Soul Power".
She was young looking, but her liquid green eyes betrayed the age therein. She pushed her curtain of curly red hair from her freckled face, and smoothed down her outfit; her white, collared, buttoned-down shirt and red/green kilt had gotten bunched up uncomfortably by her unusual choice of seating. Her metal bracelets clinked together, revealing her ouroboros tattoo, as she yanked down a screen from above.
She had initially thought it was another Judoon ship approaching. She didn't know how many times she had to tell them she hadn't stolen that damn Vortex Manipulator, and she was hunting the man who had. On top of that, their officers had gotten caught in the middle of her and a group of Cybermen. They got themselves killed of course, and decided to blame her for that too. It was just like the Shadow Proclamation.
Her eyes went wide as she saw the face in the screen. Above a blazing read "Detected" message, was the mugshot of Jack Harkness.
"Bout' time I found you." She grinned. "Time to go break you out."
Her fingers were like lightning as she ticked away on her TARDIS console's keyboard. She pulled a lever, then a knob, then yanked on a large horizontal switch. The entire octagon console rotated around the green time rotor, and she smacked her hand on the red button in front of her. Audioslave and Jack Harkness; today was getting better and better.