The holding cell was already a very cramped space by the time the Doctor materialised inside. He nearly fell over, unexpectedly woozy from so much transmatting back and forth.
"Watch it!" Ace grumped, pushing him away from her.
The Fifth Doctor grabbed his arm to steady him, looking a bit pallid himself. "Well, here we are," he remarked wryly, nodding towards the cell door.
The Doctor turned and wilted at the sight. Eleven androids stood calmly outside the clear door, their blank faces regarding the six Doctors and one human within. "Oh, what a stupid system!" the Doctor complained bitterly. By damaging things all at once, the Doctors had overloaded the system and were all beamed up before any androids could be beamed down, and now the cell was filled to standing-room only, meaning there was no room for any of the androids to come inside and be transmatted back down.
"Why are they staring at us like that?" Ace asked.
"Because I rather expect that we're in their way," the Seventh Doctor answered unhappily.
The Doctor turned on his fifth incarnation. "Didn't think of that, did you?" he quipped. Five shot him a look.
"Luckily," Four piped up from the back, "I did." He elbowed his way to the front of the cell, producing the biochip from his pocket, and to the frank astonishment of the Doctor and all the others, a sonic screwdriver from another pocket. He activated the screwdriver and poised it over the biochip until the little black disc was glowing a steady red. Slipping the screwdriver back into his pocket, he held up the biochip, slotting his thumbnail into the side. Glancing around at his audience, he grinned hugely. "Surprise!"
On cue, there was a massive explosion outside the cell as the head of every single android exploded in a shower of sparks, smoke and debris. The Doctors and Ace all recoiled defensively as bits and pieces of android brain clattered against the cell door. When they were done exploding, the smoking, headless androids stood motionless for a split second and then toppled like bowling pins into a pile of useless body parts. The Doctors and Ace stared in disbelief.
"Ha, ha! It worked!" the Fourth Doctor exclaimed giddily.
"Wicked!" Ace agreed.
"Restrain yourself, Ace," the Seventh Doctor chided.
"You've had a sonic screwdriver this WHOLE time?" the Sixth Doctor cried indignantly.
"Not the whole time. I was months convincing Goran that I didn't plan to escape to get this back," Four explained quickly.
"I knew you weren't as loony as you pretended," Eight remarked shrewdly. "Not quite, anyway."
"Can't help noticing that we're still locked in," Five cut in with another nod towards the door.
The Doctor stood by the door, gazing up and down the hallway anxiously for any sign of Kamelion. "Just hope Kamelion wasn't wearing one of your little detonators."
"Of course not," the silver android purred as he rounded the corner and activated the door mechanism. The Doctor sighed in relief. "I've been well aware of the Doctor's plan for quite some time. Apologies for keeping you waiting." The android stepped back to allow the Doctors and Ace to spill gratefully from the cramped little room. "I must warn you that when the androids fail to report back to their stations it will generate an alarm."
"With the androids gone, who's left to respond to it?" the Eighth Doctor asked.
Kamelion hesitated, deferring to the Doctor. The Doctor stopped in his tracks, working his jaw. As long as he didn't say it, it was almost as if he could pretend it wasn't real. That Miranda wasn't cold and dead on a utilitarian steel table in the laboratory, that everything he'd gone through hadn't just been rendered completely, cruelly insignificant. "Daleks," he said.
Six heads snapped to attention.
"What?" the Seventh queried sharply.
"Goran's masters are Daleks. I saw them. They built the time corridor and they're defending it with lethal force." He watched their reactions, and though he couldn't sense them telepathically, he knew their thoughts were unanimous.
"Regenerating Daleks," Five rumbled.
"With access to our TARDISes," Six added.
"And a time corridor," Eight murmured.
"Yea," the Doctor nodded curtly, "But it's even a bit worse than that. Miranda and I sort of tweaked the time corridor a bit in order to bring in New One over here, and then exploded the controls a little, which sort of alerted the Daleks to what was going on. But it probably won't take them long to repair the damage and try to duplicate my tweaking, which means we could be getting a lot more crowded very quickly if we don't stop them first."
Five familiar faces stared at him with utter disdain (Ace merely looked casually confused).
The Doctor smiled uncomfortably and shrugged. "Needs must. Sorry."
"Well then, I suggest we split up and tackle this problem from multiple angles," Six suggested, breaking the miffed silence.
"I agree," the Doctor clapped his hands together in a show of enthusiasm, eyeing the assortment of characters around him. "So, New One and Hair, you two take charge of repairing the TARDISes, Kamelion can show you the way. Patches and Beige, you fellows get to the time corridor and shut it down before the Daleks completely remove us from history, I can tell you how to get there in a mo'. And Scarf, up for a little Dalek hunt?"
"Who put you in charge?" Six complained loudly.
"Seniority. Ace," the Doctor turned to the girl, "What's in your bag?"
"Way ahead of you, mate," Ace responded, pulling several canisters of Nitro-nine from her rucksack.
"Fantastic! Each team gets one, though Scarf and me should each have our own, just in case.
"Perhaps these would be useful to have, as well," Kamelion remarked.
The Doctor turned, surprised that he didn't notice the android slink off the laboratory. He stood now with a tray containing an assortment of objects, including a piece of string, a yo-yo, and…
"My sonic screwdriver!" he exclaimed, picking the tool up from amongst the riffraff and noting carefully that it was undamaged. "Kamelion, I could kiss you!" The android paused reluctantly. "But I won't," the Doctor added quickly. Kamelion nodded and moved off so the others could collect their personal belongings. The Doctor put his screwdriver back into its usual jacket pocket, feeling almost whole again. He noticed the Fourth Doctor sidle up to him as the others got themselves sorted.
"So you found Miranda?" he asked.
"Actually, she found me. She hides it well, but she's a pretty clever girl when she applies herself. Not quite a Romana, but for a human…" he stopped abruptly, surprised to find his voice perilously close to breaking. He pulled out his screwdriver and fiddled with it for something to do.
"Where is the poor girl?" Four asked pleasantly.
The Doctor drew a careful breath, pretending as though he'd only half-heard. "She's not coming."
"I imagine the Daleks would have given her a bit of a shock," Four agreed.
The Doctor looked at him sharply, realising belatedly that it was an innocent remark. It was getting harder and harder to keep shoving everything aside. He pocketed his screwdriver and walked towards the lab without another word. He didn't trust himself.
"Doctor," one of his former selves called after him.
"Wait here," he instructed brusquely without a backwards look. He stormed into the lab, a man on a mission, and came to a stop in front of the tube, still occupied by a browbeaten Goran.
"Doctor, I can't begin to express how sorry I am about your human friend! I swear to you, I never intended—"
"Do you mean that?" the Doctor interrupted coldly.
Goran paused and blinked. "Oh, y-yes, if there was anything—!"
"Then shut up and think! The Daleks chose you to do their work for them. Daleks are geniuses, which mean they must think pretty highly of you to trust you to manipulate their DNA."
"I-I suppose—"
"Shut up! Now I'm telling you, Goran the genius biologist, that if you really want to help, if you really want to atone for your fat, passive ignorance, then use all that brilliance of yours, and all that research you've tortured me for and figure out a way to fix that," the Doctor said, pointing to the steel table and its cold, inert burden.
Goran blinked at it fretfully. "Y-you want me to—?"
"Yes. If ever there was a scientist anywhere equipped to do it, it's you. I'm about to march through a base crawling with Daleks in order to save my life and the lives of all my other human friends and save the universe in the process. This is the least you can do after all the trouble I'm going to." The Doctor stepped back, aimed his screwdriver at the tube and watched the locks spark. Goran cringed. He pulled open the tube. "Now get to work."