Episode: Paradigm of the Daleks
Chapter: Last Stand of the... [3/4]
Summary: Winston Churchill wanted to protect his people. Edwin Bracewell wanted to help win the war. Amy Pond wanted to see her Raggedy Doctor happy. The Master wanted blood. Or the one where they answer Churchill's call and realize nothing matters anymore.
Rating: T
Warning: Graphic (semi-graphic?) description of injury, blood, Daleks being Daleks.
It burns. It burns so hotly that it erases the world, sight gone white and ears filled with the echo of the shot and his whole self ablaze and numb to anything but the pain and it burns—
There's the muted sound of shouting, of a body hitting the ground, of something metallic clanking to the floor and rolling away with a whine of dissipating charge.
Koschei lets out a pained shout with his next breath, limbs shaking clumsily as he tries to find the origin of the pain and rip it out, but there are hands on him, forcing him to his back as a voice keeps shouting for the Doctor to wake up and stay with them.
But the Doctor is dead, he died in Koschei's arms two days, twenty-three hours, fifty-nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds ago. The Master killed him, by setting the nuclear bolt's power to the maximum, by following the mad scheme, by listening to the drums—
The drums Rassilon implanted in his head, which the High Council used to manipulate him, his whole life, so they would be able to bring Gallifrey out of the time lock before it was destroyed in the Time War, at the cost of the Master's and the Doctor's lives.
The Time War against the Daleks.
Dun-dun. Dun-dun. Dun-dun.
Not the drums, not anymore, not ever again. Just his heartsbeat – his heartbeat, singular, because he tried to expose the Daleks, to get their plan out of them, by threatening Churchill, and got himself shot.
In retrospect, it was a stupid plan, a voice that sounds like Theta's hums at the back of his mind.
They weren't supposed to shoot! Koschei whines mentally before pushing the voice away.
He'd been sure they wouldn't shoot; he wouldn't have suggested it otherwise! It was obvious they were Daleks; humans are just too blind to know danger when they see it. And, since they hadn't shot him when they first met, of course it was because they needed something.
So. What changed?
With a groan, Koschei focuses on the pain, on the hands on his face and neck, on the worried pleas echoing over his head, and opens his eyes.
Amelia, Amy, hovering over him with eyes full of tears, smiles brightly yet tremulously when their gazes meet.
"Doctor! Oh my God, you're alright!"
Not the Doctor, he wants to say, but ends up grunting instead as the pain flares when he tries to sit up.
One heart out of commission, one kidney and a third of his lungs gone with it, while one of his livers is ablaze but still somewhat functional. He redirects all biological functions away from it, and that cuts down the pain level significantly. The bones from that side of his torso are brittle now, their outer coating gnawed away by the energy of the shot, while the muscular fibers keep trying to spasm, and snap when he can't stop them. He takes another deep breath to center himself and finally redirects the leftover energy through his dimensions, gasping in pain at the burning sensation but exhaling tremulously in relief when it's spread so thin to be only an uncomfortable tickling.
Injured, yes, to the extent that he'll need to visit the TARDIS' med bay on top of getting some rest. But he can still function, can still move, and, more importantly, he's still alive.
That was most definitely a Dalek energy blast, the effects it has wrecked on his body are consistent with it and what he remembers from his own execution on Skaro—he chalks his next whimper and shiver to the current injury instead of the memory, but quickly pushes it away anyway—but it was most definitely not at full power, or he would be dead right now.
Koschei got shot by a Dalek. Koschei is still alive, if injured. Conclusion? The Daleks do want him alive, and have incapacitated him to keep him from doing anything crazy again.
Well, joke's on them, because Koschei is most definitely crazy, and determined enough not to play by their rules.
Breathing as deeply as he dares, Koschei opens his eyes again and, with Amy's relieved and worried help, sits up successfully this time, squeezing her shoulder when she seems unable to stop shaking.
"The threat has been neutralized," the one talkative Dalek is telling a beet-red Churchill, while Bracewell leans heavily against his workbench, head between his hands, and tries not to hyperventilate.
"The threat? That was the Doctor! An ally, a friend!"
"The threat has been neutralized," the Dalek repeats, its head swiveling so that its eyestalk lands on Koschei's snarl.
"That's what you think," he spits, attracting both Churchill's and Bracewell's attention, as he reaches for the table to pull himself to his feet—and almost falls on his face if not for Amy catching him when his weak grip doesn't manage to support his weight. "Omega's holy hands, they couldn't have fried my kidneys instead, could they? They had to get the heart," he hisses with his next breath, adjusting the production of adrenaline to make up for the loss of one heart, and so manages to finally stand up, leaning heavily on Amy for a moment as he clears his dizziness away.
"Your heart? What do you mean they fried your heart?!" Amy shouts in horror, gripping him tighter as she runs a hand over the ruined waistcoat.
"One of my hearts. Quit panicking, I have two of them," he scoffs, ripping Amy's hand off his injured side with maybe a bit more force than necessary, but the last thing he wants is for her to irritate the burns any more than the damaged clothes and his moving are already doing.
"I do not understand. The threat had been neutralized," the Dalek speaks up with even less emotion than the usual Ironside tone, and Koschei bristles and steps out of Amy's hold, blood boiling and single heart beating frantically to make up for the loss of the second.
"Oh, as if you hadn't meant to do that," he snarls, looking around for his screwdriver when he finds it isn't in his pocket anymore.
"Doctor! You're alive!" Bracewell exclaims, relieved and overjoyed, and that's it.
Koschei flares as much as he can without actually driving everyone insane, and the light directly over him explodes into a thin rain of sparkling glass while the rest flicker madly.
"I am not the Doctor!" he shouts in time with the show, and Bracewell actually falls down as he backpedals away, tripping on the fallen sonic screwdriver. "Not the Doctor or the Professor or the Master or the Captain or anyone!" he adds, glaring at Churchill when the man makes to step towards him, and feels Amy recoil. "I am the Nameless, the Madman, the Diseased! I am the one who had the power to save Gallifrey and condemned it instead. I have more blood on my hands than numbers your pitiful race will ever reach. I have destroyed whole galaxies in a breath, rewritten the universe, and shackled time. I am the last of the Time Lords and you are the last of the Daleks. And I. Will. End you," he hisses, making sure his words, his rage, his promise echoes throughout all his dimensions, reaches every single cell of the primitive brains of his audience.
He pulls on the timelines, synchronizing the flickering lights so that they all blink off in unison with his last words before releasing them into a more chaotic pattern, as a show of strength. The threat has not been neutralized, he is still as capable as ever of manipulating coincidences to his will, and can do so much worse. It helps that it also delivers the message to the non-time-sensitive humans, the darkness timed with his words playing with their minds to further enhance their impression of him as dangerous. They never connect this kind of 'coincidences', never realize it is the Time Lord's own actions making them look 'inspiring' or 'fearsome' or whatever, but their hindbrains, the part that actually has some leftovers from their most basal animal instincts, does put them together, leaving them more or less wary at times. Pitiful, really, for a species to not even understand their own brains anymore.
The Daleks, however, do understand, and so they don't move, completely still like a mouse in front of a cat, knowing that if they do so much as twitch he will pounce, screwdriver or not.
True, he won't have much of a chance against a fully functional Dalek, injured and unarmed as he is, but he is far from harmless. And the Daleks, any and all Daleks, know it.
Unlike Amy and all other humans who have ever dealt with a Time Lord seem to believe, they are not called that simply because they can travel through time. That came after.
The Daleks knew it better than anyone, which is why they targeted Gallifrey first and foremost, even when they had the power to take over most of the universe at the time.
"Correct," the Dalek finally answers, the compliant tone from the Ironside completely gone, and Koschei stills.
Correct? Correct what? That Koschei will destroy them? Daleks aren't suicidal, so what is that supposed to mean?
"What?"
"Review testimony," it tells the other Dalek, turning to face it and completely ignoring Koschei, whose anger is quickly being replaced by dread.
"… What?"
"I am the last of the Time Lords and you are the last of the Daleks," the second Dalek plays with Koschei's voice, a recording of his previous declaration.
Koschei's remaining heart skips a beat, which leaves him wobbling like a sapling in a storm, Amy quickly rushing to his side to grab his arm, and he feels his face go pale in a reaction that is not directly related to the internal bleeding caused by the shot.
"What do you need that for?" he asks, voice soft and tremulous as he tenses and takes a step back, something the humans quickly mimic.
"Transmitting testimony… Testimony accepted," the second Dalek announces, and only then do the two of them turn to face them once more.
"Down!" Koschei orders even as he throws himself to his screwdriver, pushing Amy into Churchill so the two of them fall to the ground.
If Amy had fallen with Koschei, Churchill would have been exterminated instead, and things are getting crazy enough for Koschei to allow that.
Bracewell, still on the floor from where he tripped on the screwdriver, scurries away as Koschei falls by his side, ignoring the blazing pain at the impact as he takes his sonic and rolls behind a bench.
Amy and Churchill, still in plain sight, are quickly hidden behind the marines who were waiting just inside the room. Seeing how they weren't there before, Koschei assumes it was his getting shot that brought them in, but that's not important now. The Daleks exterminate them before they can do more than aim their weapons in their general direction.
"So, you finally reveal yourselves! What changed? What was that testimony?!" Koschei shouts, fiddling with the settings of his screwdriver and peeking from behind the bench to aim at the lamp atop the Daleks.
If he can drop it on them, it will create enough of a distraction for Amy and Churchill to get out of the line of fire. And then, Koschei can try to use the environment, all the tools and hiding places, to try to damage the eyestalks and find some way to do something. Maybe Bracewell has some gunsticks lying around?
"We are the Daleks. And the testimony is our victory!" the first Dalek answers, while the second chants 'victory' over and over, before the two of them vanish with the telltale flash of white from a teleport.
The lamp falls to the ground with a crash that is almost too loud in the silence, making Amy, Churchill and Bracewell flinch.
Koschei takes in a couple of gasping breaths, swallows a mouthful of warm blood, and punches through the bench with a roar as he stands up.
"They used me! They used me, again! First Rassilon, then the humans, and now the bloody Daleks!" he shouts, grabbing the closest item, some kind of wrench, and throwing it into a wall covered with Ironside schematics. "Oh no, you don't. You may have used me to get what you wanted, but you will not get away with it. The Time War ends today," he hisses at the blueprints and, without sparing a look or a thought to anyone else, takes off running towards the TARDIS.
"Doctor, wait, you're hurt!" Amy shouts, but her voice cuts as he slams the door shut behind him, rushing to the controls and swallowing another glob of blood.
This time, the TARDIS accepts the commands on the first try, taking off still with all of its noisy grace, but swiftly as it lets him disengage the brakes. Koschei doesn't care much for the silent mode, a TARDIS' wheezing is as much a warning as anything else, but a part of him is genuinely grateful for the swift takeoff. Just because he can function with his injuries doesn't mean he fancies all the bumping around. There'll be more than enough of that where he's going.
A beep tells him that the scanners have picked up the Dalek ship, so he rushes around the console, adjusting the coordinates – and stops.
"What do we have here?" he muses to himself, analyzing a panel hidden under the stabilizers, which the TARDIS has just slid out. "That's not standard of a Type—oh! Oh, you royal pain in the ass, that is genius," he chuckles, looking over the panel that, while not original of any TARDIS he knows of, has been aboard long enough to become fully integrated with the systems. "A tribophysical waveform macro-kinetic extrapolator, arranged to function both as a forcefield and as an emergency spatiotemporal jump. You must have had that since before Malcassairo, for it to be integrated already, redecoration or not. And you hid it from me! Oh, if I had had this in my hands, no one would have got to my paradox machine," he chuckles even as he fiddles with the extrapolator, earning himself a zap that makes him wince. "Hey, it was a compliment! You know how thorough I was, and yet you managed to hide this. So, here I am, complimenting you, and what do I get? A zap! Skaro ablaze, you are a tough one to please," he grumbles, but at least the extrapolator synchs with the rest of the systems without issue. "Good, there we go. Plan B ready. Now, let's get to plan A."
And he locks onto the Dalek ship, lacking any kind of teleportation barrier, and materializes the TARDIS inside.
The extrapolator hums to activation as soon as he locks the engines, ready to spring to action when he gives the order, but there's something else Koschei needs to do first.
Without looking back, without a moment of hesitation, he walks to the door, opens it, and steps outside.
The room is as spacious as expected of a Dalek ship, open plan space with the controls split into three consoles to allow for mobility and the ability to operate different systems without getting in each other's way. It seems to be some sort of med bay—Dalek med bay, right, and Rassilon's a hugger—or, rather, a laboratory, judging by Koschei's memories of their ships and the large chamber against a wall, in a far better state than the rest of the vessel.
Three Daleks are standing in front of the chamber, two of them the Ironsides while the third is a golden one without any sort of 'disguise'. They are the only ones in the room and, according to the lack of noise from the corridors and their even worse condition, the only ones on the ship.
Like every other occasion the Doctor came across Daleks since the end of the Time War, then. Mere survivors trying to either contact other Daleks or to bring back the Dalek race.
All three of them are looking in his direction, but it is only when he emerges, nonchalant and unbothered, folding his hands behind his back after locking the door, that they swivel to aim at him.
"You didn't answer my question," he tells them, channeling all of the calm and confidence that served the Master so well when he had that unfortunate run-in with the Daleks, all the way back in the twenty-sixth century, which ended with the Master allying with them to get rid of the human and Draconian empires.
He hadn't intended to start a war, too messy an affair, but once the Daleks got involved, it would have been a very short war indeed. So, he only needed to stir some trouble, let the pathetic creatures rile each other up and battle it out, and ensure he would be able to hold onto the Doctor and Earth. After that, with both of them together, they would get rid of the Daleks, and the Master would put the Doctor back in his pretty little box and rule the galaxy from his comfy throne on Earth.
… It didn't end that well, true, but it had been a solid plan. Shame the Daleks hadn't cared about that when they finally caught up to him and punished him for his failure, but he'd got out of that one as well, if bodiless. The Master always got out of trouble.
And Koschei is not about to start failing now.
"It is the Doctor."
"Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!"
Koschei takes a deep breath in through the nose and channels all his irritation—and something that feels almost like grief or guilt or both—at being called the Doctor—again, by Daleks—into a slightly amused smile.
The Daleks shoot – and the energy simply dissipates into white flashes as it collides against the invisible forcefield from the extrapolator.
"Is that it?" he asks conversationally when they stop shooting, all three of them twitching in what he's pretty sure would be unease in any other species, but that, in a Dalek, can only be fear. "Useless," he comments carelessly, stepping further into the room, away from the TARDIS and out of the limits of the extrapolator.
They don't know that, though, and he's not planning to let them know. His coordinates were good enough to get him into the room, but the closest console is just out of the extrapolator's bubble. Still, it doesn't matter. His little show has done enough to ensure he won't be shot at again anytime soon, and the Daleks don't know about the extrapolator. And, seeing how badly damaged the ship is, they won't risk wasting resources in a fruitless endeavor such as shooting a protected enemy.
As for the whole 'Doctor' business… Well, it won't be the weirdest disguise Koschei has ever put on. Besides, as much as the Time War Daleks learnt to fear the Master, if these ones are from after the Time War, they will fear the Doctor more.
The Emperor managed to create a new fleet of Daleks, even if all of them were insane. The Cult of Skaro brought some from the Time War with the Genesis Ark, and almost created a new race of Dalek-humans, before the Doctor meddled. Davros did create a whole race, a new Dalek Empire, from his own body.
But the Bad Wolf had divided the whole of the Dalek fleet, in the year 200,100, and this is 1941, so these Daleks can't be survivors of that. The four of the Cult of Skaro were all accounted for, three in Manhattan and one at the Medusa Cascade, and their new Daleks had been created out of human corpses, so not those either. The Genesis Ark had contained only Daleks, not ships, and this one isn't newly made, so that discards it too, besides the fact they appeared in 2007 and were sucked back into the Void. So, that either leaves the Time War or the Medusa Cascade.
A Dalek ship can carry more than two thousand Daleks at a time. For an average Dalek battle cruiser such as this one to have survived the Time War, it must have been far back in their lines, further from Gallifrey, and so with most of its crew still onboard. However, seeing how there are only three Daleks here now, Koschei leans more towards them being some of Davros' new Daleks rather than survivors of the Time War.
Regardless of where these Daleks are from, they all know Daleks and Time Lords alike were destroyed with Gallifrey, they know the only surviving Time Lord is the Doctor. It doesn't help that the humans have the bad habit of calling Koschei Doctor, or that, even if they didn't, no one knows he's actually the Master.
Koschei won't be the one to tell them they're wrong, he doesn't fancy getting shot again. One rage-fueled mistake per adventure, thank you very much.
"If you are done being rude hosts, maybe you'll answer my question now?" he asks after a glance at the screen reveals only maintenance data, confirming his suspicion of most of the ship being dead or offline. "What was that testimony for?"
"The Doctor will withdraw or the city will die in flames," Goldie threatens, and Koschei gives them his best disappointed frown.
"The Daleks will answer my question or their ship will go up in flames," he retorts, taking his screwdriver out of his pocket and activating it.
It immediately synchs with the extrapolator and the TARDIS, and the blue box rumbles as the light atop it glows softly.
The Daleks swivel to it, observing for a moment, before turning back to Koschei in unison. This time, Koschei grins sharply.
"I'm calling your bluff. Your ship is wrecked, running on empty, with just you three left, and not a single one of you can touch me. London stays as is. So, it's your turn. Are you calling my bluff or answering my question?"
One of the Ironsides glides forward and Koschei immediately turns up the power a notch, the light and sound from the TARDIS increasing. The Dalek stops, but it is Goldie who talks.
"You would not use such a device. You would not destroy yourself and your TARDIS just to destroy us."
"What do I have to lose?" he asks them with more sincerity than he's comfortable with, but after a moment, the Ironside glides back to its previous position, far enough that Koschei is not in their scan range.
He will blow up the TARDIS if necessary, now that he has confirmed this lone ship with its three Daleks is all there is. But if they were to find out he's out of the extrapolator's force field, they would have a chance at exterminating him before he can send the order.
Out of the question.
Besides, he'd rather figure out why they're here, what the testimony is for, and get out of this mess with his life. He still owes Amy one trip and a flight back to her own time, after all, even if he's sure Churchill would take good care of her, were she to become stranded here.
"One ship survived," Goldie starts, voice gravelly, and, despite it not being a direct answer to his question, Koschei decides to let it talk, giving it a small jerk of his chin when it goes quiet. "We fell through time. Crippled. Dying," it adds, and the other two twitch, likely in rage, but Koschei makes sure to still them with a glare, just in case they get any ideas about trying to shoot again. "And then, we picked up a trace. One of the Progenitor devices."
For the first time since he stepped out of the TARDIS, Koschei gives the chamber behind the Daleks a closer look. And there, suspended in the middle and with colorful lights flashing in a constant pattern, is the Progenitor device, vaguely egg-shaped—Thals and Kaleds both were oviparous, weren't they?—and obviously operational, judging by the increasing speed of the blinks.
Koschei has to force himself to take another breath when everything finally clicks into a frankly terrifying picture.
"The Progenitor, the origin or model of something. That thing contains Dalek DNA, doesn't it? But why would you need a testimony—Oh," he whispers to himself and doesn't bother containing his laughter at the realization of what that had been about. "Oh, I love it! The irony! You couldn't use it!" he exclaims with a large gleeful grin, and the way the Daleks twitch but don't protest is more than confirmation enough. "Hah! It didn't recognize you; you are impure. You are a mockery of true Daleks. You are Ironsides! You were really kowtowing to the humans, you needed them!" he cackles, bending in half as his damaged lungs leave him wheezing for air and hurting all over, but there's no way in Skaro's radioactive flares that he won't have this last laugh.
"Enough. Enough! Enough!" Goldie orders, shaking once more and gliding forwards—
Koschei's laughter cuts instantly as he straightens once more, no sign of mirth on his serious face and no trembling as he lifts his still active screwdriver.
Goldie stops as if it'd just slammed into an invisible wall, before, still twitching slightly, returning to its spot.
"There you go. Good boy," Koschei taunts, his grin dark this time, before he drops it in favor of the situation at hand. "The Progenitor wouldn't work for you, so you rigged this whole testimony thing. If an enemy of the Daleks, a Time Lord, recognized you as such, surely the Progenitor would accept it as valid and activate for you. That's why you offered your 'services' to Churchill, to lure me here and obtain that testimony."
"Extinction is not an option. We shall return to our own time and begin again," Goldie proclaims, while one of the Ironsides twitches—
"Actually, the most impressive thing about you is that after all this time, you're still bone dead stupid. You've got six billion pairs of eyes, but you still can't see the obvious, can you?"
That Dalek wasn't there before, not so close to that console. The three of them were standing next to each other, side by side—
"The Doctor will withdraw or the city will die in flames."
"What did you do," Koschei snarls, flaring just enough that the damaged and unshielded Dalek console behind him sputters some sparks. "Answer me!"
"Our ship may not be able to destroy the humans, but they can destroy themselves. All of the generators in the human city have been activated. The city is exposed to the oncoming enemies."
The lights. All the lights in London have been turned on, and, after a quick sniff, Koschei tenses. All the lights on, at nighttime, with Nazi bombers approaching.
"Stalemate, Doctor. Leave us and return to Earth," the talkative Ironside adds, almost smug.
Koschei laughs. A bark of laughter and a sharp smirk, but it's enough to still all three Daleks.
"Stalemate? I don't think so," he answers almost casually – and increases the power of the screwdriver, the TARDIS' hum and light growing stronger. "You are sending that signal. If I blow up this ship, the signal goes offline. No more lights, no more Progenitor. As far as I see it, I win."
"Desist," Goldie orders, twitching once more, but Koschei's smirk only grows larger and sharper, his thumb sliding just the tiniest bit more to increase the signal— "Desist, desist, desist!"
"Bye."
"Terminate the signal! Terminate, terminate, terminate!" Goldie orders hurriedly, going as far as to swivel and shoot next to the Ironside's base when it doesn't rush to the console fast enough.
A twist of a knot and the Ironside quickly glides away from the controls and next to the other two.
"The signal has been terminated. You no longer have a reason to activate the TARDIS self-destruct," the Ironside tells him, but Koschei makes a show of slowly stepping back until he's close enough to the console to check.
And, as told, he sees that the signal that was being emitted has been cancelled, and the rush of energy from 'target: London' has gone back to the low thrum of nighttime activity previously registered by the ship's sensors.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that. But you've earned a couple more minutes," he finally answers, dialing down his own signal so that the TARDIS returns to her previous display. "Now, let's get back to the topic without any more amateur attempts at backstabbing, shall we?" he asks with a mocking smirk, but other than some irritated twitches, the Daleks remain silent. "What makes you think I'm going to let you just fly away and rebuild your race? Other than that pathetic display just now, that is."
They obviously have no answer to that, just standing there, with the two Ironsides turning to Goldie as if expecting it to have a solution.
Koschei snorts once more, though, this time, it isn't just in amusement. He could try to reprogram one of the consoles, to overload the system and blow the ship up while he rushes away in the TARDIS. However, the moment he tries it, the Daleks will shoot again, no matter how futile their previous efforts had been.
He could go back to the TARDIS, to the extrapolator's force field, but the Dalek ship is still protected, regardless of the damage. He doubts he'd be able to do anything through the TARDIS, and he has no weapons there he could use instead to destroy the Daleks.
So, one way or another, it turns out the Daleks were right. Stalemate. Koschei can't blow them up without going out with them.
The TARDIS self-destruct is the only thing powerful and fast enough to destroy this ship. With the emergency spatiotemporal jump he programmed in the extrapolator, the TARDIS and the ship she's in will be sent to the black hole at the center of the galaxy a second before the explosion, while the TARDIS herself, her soul, will be released back to the Time Vortex with the destruction of the Time Capsule. This way, the Earth and the Moon will go unaffected by the explosion, and everything will continue as it should.
The Daleks and the Time Lords, destroyed in one last fiery boom.
Ironic, so ironic, but at the same time, so fitting. Koschei ran and hid amongst humans, like these Daleks did with the Ironsides and with their intention to run now to escape death. It is just punishment for failing their races, their purpose as members of them, that they die as the Dalek Empire and Gallifrey did.
In flames. Together.
Well, it is just as Koschei said, isn't it?
What do they have to lose now?
The door of the chamber slides closed, red energy rushing over it, just as Koschei makes his choice, and he barely stops himself before he can send the command.
"What is going on?" he asks, but the Daleks are too excited to pay him attention anymore, whirling around and gliding away from the chamber and its door.
"We have succeeded. DNA reconstruction is complete," Goldie proclaims, and Koschei's remaining heart skips a beat, forcing him to take a step back to keep his balance.
Damned resolution! My adrenaline levels shouldn't have dropped just because I made my choice!
But they did, and so Koschei is too busy raising them, regaining his balance and getting rid of the bout of dizziness brought by his sudden movement that he's unable to react before the door opens. The flickering lights and the bolts of energy all over the chamber don't help clear his head either.
"Observe, Doctor, a new Dalek paradigm," Goldie tells him as a thin layer of white smoke slithers out of the chamber, the white light inside finally fading—
Or, rather, being blocked.
The new Dalek is larger and sleeker, taller and more streamlined than Goldie and the Ironsides, yet somehow looking sharper than them as well. Probably due to its power levels, especially when compared with the other three.
It is also an eye-watering white color, except for some black and silver accents, like the neck, spheres and weapons platform.
And it's not alone.
A blue one joins it not a second later, followed by an orange, a yellow and a red one.
All their eyestalks have amber lights with a blue horizontal 'pupil', somehow giving them a more organic yet also robotic look at the same time.
Koschei can only wonder what these ones, these pure Daleks, are capable of… and dreads finding the answer.
"The Progenitor has fulfilled our new destiny," the chatty Ironside says as it glides a bit closer to the 'Paradigms', almost like a child in awe at a parade. "Behold, the restoration of the Daleks. The resurrection of the master race."
"One, that is most definitely not the Master race. Two, I'm going to throw up. And three, I hate karma," Koschei lets out before he can stop himself, grimacing and feeling truly nauseous, though he can't say whether it's because of his injuries, the presence of the new Daleks and what that implies, or the comment about the 'master race'.
… Definitely the last one. Fate loves to mess with him. He'd say it's because of something he did in a past life, but he's not sure he would be able to say that without breaking down laughing, so he decides to just drop that line of thought and focus on the issue at hand.
Which, actually, isn't much of an issue at all.
In fact, this is actually a blessing. The Progenitor has done its thing, there are now five tall eyesores of a Dalek—and why are his enemies always taller, that is so not fair—alongside the three Ironside ones. But the ship is still a mess, and the TARDIS is ready to go.
If Koschei ever needed a last push to activate the self-destruct, this would definitely be it.
"Yes, you are inferior," Whitey tells its fanboys, who had been chanting 'all hail the new Daleks' while Koschei put himself together, and the three smaller ones immediately agree. "Then prepare," it adds in its even more robotic voice, receiving another agreement— "Cleanse the unclean. Total obliteration. Disintegrate."
And Koschei's mouth goes dry as the new Daleks shoot the old ones, truly disintegrating them with one blast.
Alright, now he has reason to blow up the ship. If they have this destructive power, way beyond the regular extermination, he really doesn't want to see what else they're hiding. Besides, even if they have a more powerful force field, nothing can survive an exploding TARDIS and being swallowed by a black hole afterwards.
"You are the Doctor. You must be exterminated," Whitey tells Koschei, its optic meeting his eyes, and the Time Lord bristles.
The wrong name, again. Why does everyone assume that just because he's a Time Lord messing with things that means he's the Doctor? These are Daleks! Anyone with even the slightest sense of self-preservation—
Anyone with even the slightest sense of self-preservation would be running the other way, actually…
But these are Daleks. Running only means they shoot you in the back, and they obliterate all the planets you try to hide in—unless you're just another Time Lord in the middle of a Time War, with the perfect disguise and using said Time War as cover—and Koschei doesn't care about collateral damage if it means he gets out of the mess alive. Everything ends eventually—being stranded at the end of the universe does give you that perspective, Lucy wasn't the only one to realize that.
But things are different now. The Daleks are the reason for the mess that has been Koschei's life. The drums, driving him insane, isolating him from family and friends and even home planet. The Time War, destroying everything Koschei had cared about, even if he'd forfeited it long before. The Doctor dying in his arms, trying to stop Koschei, who was guided by the drums which Rassilon had put in his head because Gallifrey was going to be destroyed by the Time War against the Daleks.
Koschei is alone now. No more Gallifrey. No more Prydonian Chapter or House Oakdown. No more Doctor.
And it's all the Daleks' fault.
So, a newly created Dalek that fancies itself superior, which has known no battle or war or Time War, dares think it can simply exterminate the last of the Time Lords and go on to rebuild the Dalek Empire?
"You are the Doctor. You must be exterminated."
Koschei smirks and lifts his screwdriver.
"I will obey you."
It's firenoiselightpain and Koschei falls back with a shout, immediately rushing towards the origin of the warmth reaching urgently for him, practically on all fours, stumbling a couple times to avoid deathdeathdeath before he finally collapses on his side when safeprotectedhome washes over him, curling around his bloody and burnt hand and wrist and taking in gasping breaths.
A couple more zaps echo over his head, just far enough that he knows he's alright, but he still flinches and looks up.
The Daleks, the new colorful ones, all of them aiming at Koschei and gliding closer to the edge of the force field. Koschei scrambles into a sitting position and pushes himself away from them until his back slams against the TARDIS, still singing at him though not as desperately as before. Apparently, she believes these new Daleks won't be able to break through the force field. Koschei swallows, tasting blood, and tries to calm down his frantic and hitching breaths, forcing down pain from his previous injuries and the new ones, but doesn't take his wide-eyed gaze off the white Dalek.
"We are the paradigm of a new Dalek race," it says as if that explains everything, which is confirmed when the blue one stops in its approach and the rest still as well.
"Force field reached. It is programmed to repel Dalek signatures. Scanning for weaknesses," Blue drones, yet there's not a sound coming from it, just the slightest twitches of its eyestalk to give an impression of scanning.
No wonder Koschei hadn't realized they were onto him, that they knew he wasn't as protected as he had tried to make it seem. He's damn lucky they only destroyed his screwdriver instead of shooting him in the chest.
"Scientist, Strategist, Drone, Eternal and the Supreme," White 'introduces' them, and Koschei, breathing more regularly after he cuts all nervous communication from his damaged arm in an attempt to dull the pain, swallows once more before answering.
"Which would be you. I expected Red over there to be the boss, you know. White is supposed to be for harmless and innocent," he tries to needle, but humor is lost on Daleks, as expected.
"Human ideals do not apply to Daleks."
"Who said I was talking about humans?" he adds in an attempt to buy some more time, finally putting himself together enough to push himself to his feet using the TARDIS as support. "Red is boss for Time Lords."
"Irrelevant. Time Lords are extinct."
Koschei's jaw clenches as he snarls, forcing himself to keep breathing as deeply as he's able without aggravating the internal damage.
"So sure of my death, aren't you? Well, you should have paid better attention. Because I am alive, and I am a red one. See you in Hell," he hisses, and has the satisfaction to see the new Daleks twitch when he flares, before turning his back on them and entering the TARDIS.
Koschei drops back against the door as soon as it locks behind him, gasping once, twice, before the adrenaline and the hatred kick in and he manages to straighten and walk up to the controls.
"Sorry, old girl, but it looks like it's going to be plan B after all. Let's make them pay for Gallifrey, shall we?" he tells the TARDIS softly, maneuvering the levers to trigger the manual self-destruct, and the song enveloping him grows stronger and warmer while the controls shift smoother than ever before.
"Cancel the self-destruct, Doctor," the white Dalek orders, and Koschei startles, bristling, before he realizes it sounds so clear because the TARDIS is projecting the visual from outside on one of the large roundels framing the door. "Cancel the self-destruct or we will destroy the Earth."
"With what? Are you going to turn all the lights on the whole planet on and have them burn through their fossil fuel reserves before time? That's hardly going to cut it, you spray-painted peppershaker," Koschei scoffs, snarling at the image but not returning to the controls, dread twisting around the ball of burning hatred that is his current source of strength.
He won't underestimate these Paradigm Daleks again, no matter how little time alive they have left. Blowing up his screwdriver in his hand was enough of a lesson.
"Bracewell is a bomb."
And Koschei stops breathing.
White, however, doesn't even seem to notice—which makes sense, seeing how Koschei is in the TARDIS and it is outside—or doesn't care, if it has even noticed the almost silent gasp.
"To obtain the testimony, the inferior Daleks created an android that would allow them to infiltrate the government and call forth the Doctor. His power is derived from an Oblivium Continuum. Cancel the self-destruct, or we will detonate the android."
"You're bluffing," Koschei manages to choke out, but he knows they aren't.
Daleks don't trust anyone, after all, especially not humans. He knows that better than anyone. They might use other species, but don't trust. And for something as important as activating the Progenitor device, they wouldn't have risked having a human in the know about their origins. No, the Daleks would rather use what little resources they had available to build an android than conserve them but risk losing this chance.
"Then we will shatter the planet below. The Earth will die screaming," White answers, and, behind it, Koschei can see Orange messing with one of the computers.
"No. No, you don't. I won't let you get away this time! I won't let you live while everyone I ever cared about died! You won't win!" he shouts, slamming a fist against the controls.
But his snarl is more of a grimace, the fist on the console is holding more and more weight with every second, he can't seem to catch his breath, and the blood from where he's pressing his injured hand against his chest feels way hotter than it should.
Shock. He's losing too much blood, the damage that was manageable before becoming more pressing with each passing second. Either he finishes programming the TARDIS to self-destruct, or he takes her back to Earth to deal with Bracewell. He can't do both.
Koschei constricts the blood vessels of his injured arm and spikes his adrenaline levels once more, knowing there's only so much that will do at this point, before refocusing on the image of the Dalek Supreme.
"Choose, Doctor. Destroy the Daleks, or save the Earth. The countdown of the Oblivium Continuum has begun. Choose, Doctor. Choose. Choose."