This story/episode is based on: Prisoner of the Daleks (novel)

Fictions Mentioned:

Episode 7 - Prisoner of The Daleks

Preview:

The Daleks are advancing, their empire constantly expanding into Earth's space. The Earth forces are resisting the Daleks in every way they can. But the battles rage on across countless solar systems. And now the future of our galaxy hangs in the balance... The Doctor and his five companions find themselves stranded on board a starship near the front line with a group of ruthless bounty hunters.

Earth Command will pay them for every Dalek they kill, every eye stalk they bring back as proof. With the Doctor and the companions' help, the bounty hunters achieve the ultimate prize: a Dalek prisoner — intact, powerless, and ready for interrogation. But where the Daleks are involved, nothing is what it seems, and no one is safe. Before long the tables will be turned, and how will the Doctor and his companions survive when they become prisoners of the Daleks?

'Don't be such a baby,' said Stella. Scrum tried to pull his arm away, but Stella had a good grip on it.

'Ow! I'm not a baby! Ow! Ow! Ow!'

She dabbed the antiseptic wipe against the wound and then smiled brightly at him. 'There you are – all done.'

Scrum withdrew his hand slowly, almost disbelievingly. The gash on his forearm looked sore but clean. 'Isn't there anything else you can do?'

'Amputation?' Stella suggested archly.

'I mean really. It hurts, you know…'

Stella rolled her eyes.

'How about a cryo-charge?'

'What does that do?'

'Lowers your body temperature to absolute zero in about half a second. Literally freezes you on the spot. We take you back to a planet where there are proper hospital facilities and they thaw you out and treat you.' She smiled. 'Don't look so worried, Scrum, I'm only kidding. I wouldn't waste a cryo-charge on a great oaf like you. They're for emergencies only.'

'OK. You win.'

'Here.' Stella tossed a plastic-wrapped bandage at him and it bounced off his head. 'Last of the field dressings. All yours, big boy.'

'Don't make fun of me,' Scrum said. 'I'm not combat trained. I don't even like fighting. I'm a computer technician, not a soldier.'

They were sitting in the tiny medical compartment of the ship – it was too small to call it a sickbay. It was just big enough to hold a narrow bunk, some computers, stores, and a swivel chair for Stella. She spun round and picked up her bottle of water. 'You were lucky not to lose your arm,' she told him, taking a drink. 'A couple of centimetres either way and you'd be doing your computer programming one handed.'

Scrum looked forlornly at his arm and then tore open the field dressing with his teeth. He seemed to have shrunk even more than usual. He was short, a bit overweight, with sad eyes and lank, prematurely grey hair tied back in a stubby ponytail. The tip was dyed green, the only remnant of an effort, long ago, to make himself look more 'interesting' to women.

Stella put her water down. 'What's up? C'mon, you can tell me.'

'I nearly got us all killed back there,' he said quietly.

He looked up at her. 'It wasn't even a proper mission. It was just a stupid bandit trap and I nearly got us all killed.'

'Forget it. You're alive and we're alive and that's all that counts. Like I said, you were lucky. We're always lucky.'

He sighed. 'Some day our luck will run out.'

'We can make our own luck. Come on, let's get something to eat.'

She led the way down the narrow passageway to the galley. Scrum followed, pressing the bandage into position. 'Bowman doesn't believe in luck. He won't see it that way.'

'Leave Bowman to me,' Stella advised.

A tall, dark, muscular man in combat fatigues was doing pull-ups in the galley, hanging from a duct running across the ceiling that bent and creaked under his weight. He broke into a wide grin when he saw Stella and Scrum.

'Hey! How goes it, my friends? How's the walkin' wounded?'

'I'll live,' said Scrum, forcing a smile. 'Apparently.'

Stella slumped into another chair and scooped her black hair up into a scruffy topknot, tying it off with a rubber band. 'We're seriously low on stores, Cuttin' Edge. I'm down to using some old antiseptic wipes because I haven't even got any bactoray. We're going to have to stop soon and pick up some provisions.'

Cuttin' Edge dropped lightly to the deck. 'Man, that ain't gonna be easy. We're in deep space, right near the border.'

'I'm going to have to put it to the captain.'

Cuttin' Edge wiped his neck with a towel and grinned.

'Hey, rather you than me, babe.'

Stella paused outside the entrance to Bowman's cabin. It wasn't very often the crew called on the captain. She took a deep breath and opened the door. 'Sorry to disturb you, skipper…'

Jon Bowman dismissed the apology with a single movement of one finger. He was a big man in every sense of the word: tall, broad shouldered, a body toned and hardened by decades of combat. His face looked as though it had been hewn from a single piece of granite, deep-set eyes burning beneath a jutting brow, a slightly broken nose above thin, straight lips. His dark hair was unkempt, streaked with grey now, tied back with an old, blood-red bandana.

'Ship's damaged,' he said without preamble. His voice was a deep, masculine growl. He never had to raise it to be heard and he never wasted a word. 'Pirates blew a hole in one of the aft fuel tanks. We're going to have to stop for repairs.'

Stella breathed a quiet sigh of relief. What was it she had told Scrum about being lucky? 'Any suggestions on where?' she asked.

Bowman sat forward in his chair. He had a small desk, cluttered with old pieces of equipment, weapons, monitors, charts. There was a small 3D holopicture of a young man and a woman, grinning at the camera, their arms wrapped around a lanky, dark-haired teenager with a broken nose. He was smiling too. Stella liked to think this was the young Jon Bowman, a lifetime ago, with his parents. But had he ever smiled? Stella never dared to ask.

Bowman tapped one of the chart screens on his desk. He moved the holopicture aside to give him more room. 'We're in the Kappa Galanga sector. There's nothing here – except pirates – and the very edge of Earth space. We're twenty light years from the nearest habitable star system, forty from what you might call civilisation. We don't have enough fuel left for either.'

Stella frowned, peering at the charts. 'So…?'

Bowman pointed to a single point of light on the map with one thick finger. 'There's only one option. This place. Small, forgotten, not even listed on some recent charts, but it's within range. Used to be a frontier staging world, so it's probably got what we need.'

'It's right on the border,' noted Stella cautiously.

Bowman looked up at her. His grey eyes were as cold as steel. 'I didn't say it wasn't risky.'

'But you did say it's our only option.'

'That's right.'

Stella looked closer, reading the name attached to the tiny planet. 'Hurala. Sounds lovely.'

'It won't be.'

The Wayfarer was a converted naval patrol ship that had been rescued from scrap twenty years before Bowman got hold of it. It had been refitted more times than any one of its current crew could guess, and certainly more times than the entries in its log book showed. The interior of the ship had evolved in accordance with the needs of its various crews over the years, but it remained cramped and claustrophobic. As the Wayfarer came in to land on the planet Hurala, Stella grew ever more desperate to get out and get some fresh air. She was starting to feel trapped. She leant over the back of the pilot's seat, peering over Cuttin' Edge's shoulder at the craggy, brown surface of the planet as it sped beneath.

'Spaceport,' said Scrum, tapping one of the displays on the flight console. 'Twenty kliks north-west.'

Cuttin' Edge brought the ship down on one of the small landing pads situated on the perimeter. The buildings were little more than rusting hulks, and there were no other ships in sight.

'It's actually an old refuelling station,' Scrum explained. 'This kind of place was fully automated anyway. As long as there's still some juice in the tanks we can fill up and be on our way.'

'OK,' said Bowman. His voice rumbled quietly from the rear of the flight cabin. 'Let's get this done. I don't have to remind you guys that we're right on the edge of human space. There's nothing and no one here, but I don't want to hang around and risk attracting any unnecessary attention. One hour's shore leave and then we go.'

They filed out of the ship, stretching and yawning.

Scrum was holding a portable scanner. 'Let's see if this thing can find the nearest astronic fuel terminal.'

'Oh, man,' said Cuttin' Edge. 'It feels good to just walk.' He strode purposefully to the rim of the landing pad. 'Reckon we can get anything to eat around here?'

'Depends on whether they left food behind when they abandoned the place,' said Scrum, concentrating on his scanner. 'And whether they left it in a stasis field. They probably switched them all off, and that accounts for the pong.'

'Nuts,' said Cuttin' Edge. 'I'm gonna take a look. Comin', bro?'

Scrum nodded, still looking down at the scanner display, and set off after his friend.

Stella watched them go with a smile. They made an unusual pair, complete opposites but the best of mates. Stella wondered what it must be like to have a good friend, someone you could rely on, share secrets with, even share a life with. The crew of the Wayfarer were her friends, but they were also colleagues. Something inside her longed for more, for a better life. She just didn't know how to find it.

'Doesn't do to think,' growled Bowman.

'It's this place,' Stella said. 'So silent and forgotten. It reeks of death.'

'What put you in such a good mood?'

She sighed. 'Maybe I need a break.'

'You sure that's all you need?' Bowman asked. 'I know you only joined up short term. If you want to go, then go.'

'Why, captain, I do believe you have a heart after all.'

'Who, me? Forget it.'

Someone moved into view behind Bowman, stalking across the concrete from the Wayfarer like a panther. Koral was tall, tawny like a lioness with bright, burning eyes. She wore supple, natural buckskins and leather boots. She was humanoid, but sometimes seemed more like an animal – powerful, predatory, slightly aloof. Stella still wasn't certain exactly what Koral's relationship was with Bowman, but she seemed to act like some sort of personal bodyguard.

Koral whispered something to Bowman. When she spoke, Stella glimpsed sharp, white fangs.

'It's OK,' Bowman said quietly. He always spoke softly to Koral. 'We're only staying for a short time.'

Koral nodded and moved away, as indifferent to Stella and the rest of her surroundings as a cat.

'What's up with her?' Stella asked.

'She wants to know why everyone's so nervous,' Bowman said. 'Says she can smell the sweat.' 'It's the life we lead, I suppose.'

'That, and the fact that this place is so … wrong.'

'Wrong?'

Bowman nodded. 'It's empty. Abandoned. A corpse of a world. Like you said, it reeks of death.'

Stella shivered. And then they both heard a cry –

Cuttin' Edge's voice, calling them from some way off.

'Hey! Dudes, over here. You gotta see this!'

They found Cuttin' Edge at a small intersection between the old prefab buildings. Scrum was standing to one side, busy taking readings with his scanner, moving the device around for a better signal. Koral paced the area, looking this way and that for any sign of danger.

Cuttin' Edge was excited. 'Well? What do ya think?'

He gestured theatrically at a tall blue box with panelled sides and small, frosted windows set high up on a pair of double doors. A sign across the top read:

POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX

'What is it?' asked Stella, unimpressed. It was odd, but not spectacular.

'My guess is it's a police public call box,' said Scrum drily.

'Police?' echoed Cuttin' Edge. 'What the hell is "police"?'

'Old-fashioned word for law enforcement,' said Bowman.

'Then what's it doin' out here?' Cuttin' Edge wondered.

'Ain't no law around these parts, and that's for sure.'

'Maybe it was put here years ago,' suggested Stella.

'And they left the lights on?' Cuttin' Edge rested the palm of one hand against the side of the object. 'Hey – it's hummin'.'

Stella had walked right around the box. She tried the door but it was locked.

'Well, it's weird,' said Bowman, 'but it isn't what we're here for. Scrum, have you found anything we can use yet? There must be some fuel left in the tanks somewhere.'

'Oh, there is,' Scrum confirmed. 'But I'm picking up other readings too. The scanner shows that the automated computer system is still running. Refuelling shouldn't be a problem. But the computers are using a strange signal code, one I can't properly identify.'

'Does it matter?'

'Well, no, not really. Except for one thing: I'm picking up another, equally unusual signal from deep underground. Almost directly beneath us, in fact…'

Bowman frowned. 'What kind of signal?'

'It's some kind of reverberation. A knock, or a tap, only it isn't mechanical. We can't hear it, of course, but if I isolate the vibrations and enhance the audio signal…'

Scrum fiddled with the controls on his scanner, and suddenly the air was full of a hiss of white noise and a strange, rhythmic tap of metal on metal. And it kept repeating itself:

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

'Unbelievable,' whispered Scrum after they had all listened to it several times. 'It can't be…'

'Can't be what?' asked Bowman.

Scrum seemed awestruck. 'Well, it barely seems possible…'

'Spit it out, dude,' said Cuttin' Edge.

Scrum licked his dry lips. 'Thousands of years ago, way back on Earth, long before there was any space travel, a man called Morse invented a code that could be signalled by short and long sounds – dots and dashes – to represent every letter of the alphabet. Three dots and three dashes, followed by another three dots, spells SOS.'

'It's a cry for help,' said Stella.

They traced the signal quickly enough. Koral was left guarding the entrance while the others descended several levels beneath the spaceport via a series of rattling metal staircases.

'This whole complex extends far underground,' explained Scrum as they went. 'The refuelling silos must have been huge.'

'They needed them in those days,' said Bowman.

Eventually they reached a small corridor lined with doors and a number of computer terminals. Scrum traced the SOS signal to a heavy-looking door marked with warning signs.

'Shh,' ordered Bowman. 'Listen.'

They could all hear the tapping now – faint but distinct – through the metal door.

'I wonder how long they've been stuck down here?' Stella said.

'Wait a sec,' said Cuttin' Edge. He had stepped back a little, to give him room to unsling his gun. All of them were armed, but only Cuttin' Edge had brought an assault rifle.

'Do you think that's necessary?' asked Stella.

'Hell, we don't know anythin'. We don't know what's behind that door. But we do know this is pirate country.'

'You think it's a pirate in there?'

'Or something worse. A mutant, maybe. Or a plague victim. Could be the "police" locked up whatever it is in there for a good reason.'

'And it knows Morse code?' queried Stella.

The tapping had continued all the while, completely oblivious to the discussion.

'Could be a trick.' Cuttin' Edge cocked his gun and took aim at the door. 'We just gotta be careful, that's all I'm sayin'.'

Bowman drew his own blaster pistol. 'Only one way to find out. Get that door open, Scrum.'

Scrum started work on the small control panel next to the door.

'Here's that other strange signal again,' he said, frowning. 'Like the computer's working on a different system to the original design. The door's been deadlock sealed. But I should be able to override it… aha!'

The control panel bleeped and, somewhere deep inside the door, heavy metal bolts slowly withdrew.

They all moved back to allow a clear field of fire as the door slid open.

Sitting on the opposite side of the tiny cell behind was a man in a brown pinstriped suit. He was holding a teaspoon. He wasn't alone. He was with four teenagers and one child, wearing civilian clothing.

The man in a brown pinstriped suit looked up at the people gathered in the doorway, and, despite the guns trained directly on him, broke into a huge grin that lit up his face.

'Hello!' he said cheerfully.

OP Song:

Mother - YU-NO: Kono Yo no Hate de Koi o Utau Shoujo(Opening 2 Full w/ Lyrics & Subs in English)[4K]

It was a forgotten world.

On the very edge of explored space, the planet resembled little more than a speck of dirt floating between the stars. From the surface of this world, the nearest sun was visible only as a distant blue glow on the horizon. The planet existed in perpetual dusk.

It had once been inhabited by men intent on pushing back the dark boundaries of the universe. The planet had been a useful staging post between the old worlds and the distant, uncharted stars beyond.

The debris of men impatient to be gone littered the dusty surface: empty, prefabricated buildings, corroded machinery, plastic components brittle with neglect. The computers lay dormant, their purpose lost in shadowy, offline sleep.

But even a remote and unremembered place can become important – if only to those who visit.

There was no wind to trouble the dust that had settled over the ages, but, at a secluded point in the middle of the abandoned central structure, a breeze appeared from nowhere. Scrubby little weeds, struggling through the cracks in the paving stones, shivered and withdrew. A sudden, wild noise reverberated from the walls of the surrounding buildings, reaching a crescendo of wheezing and groaning as a tall blue box surged into existence from nowhere.

Vworp Vworp Vworp

The TARDIS doors sprang open and the Doctor, along with his companions, leapt out, with the former looking thoroughly annoyed.

'All right! That's it!' he yelled. 'I've had enough. What's got into you?'

The TARDIS made no reply.

The Doctor shoved his hands into his pockets and thrust out his bottom lip. 'You've been acting all funny since we left our multiverse clusters. What's the matter? Bit of grit in the old dimensional stabilisers? Broken sprocket on the relative time filter?'

Still no reply.

The Doctor sighed. 'You're costing me a fortune in repairs, you are. How can I be expected to run a classic TARDIS if it keeps jumping time tracks every time it lands?'

Just as the Doctor was talking to the TARDIS in a tone of exasperation, the companions themselves were simply discussing their current predicament.

'So, what do you think is going on guys?,' asked Touma Kamijou, sporting an expression of concern, with arms crossed.

'I'm not sure,' said Lelouch Lamperouge, sporting a pondering look. 'The Doctor mentioned that we just jumped through the time tracks. That could prove to be a possible problem considering that it would ultimately mean that we could be anywhere or anywhen on the meta-timeline scale of the Known and Unknown Multiverse. In other words, there could be the possibility that we have just crossed between the meta-time zones of our own personal timelines, or that of the personal timelines of people that we met or haven't met yet. Or that we managed to cross through the boundaries of the meta-aeons as it were.'

'In other words, we could be in the Doctor's seventh or eighth incarnation's meta-era for example, in this case, Pre-Time War,' said Conan Edogawa, sporting a concerned expression.

'Correct, Shinichi-kun,' said Lelouch, concerned expression turning grave. 'Which is why in cases like this, a time traveller should always remain careful on not to touch things too directly since possible ripples might occur which would bring unwanted attention and results.'

'Heh, not like this didn't happen to us before considering all of our previous adventures,' said Kyon, sporting a pointed look, with crossed arms.

'Hmph. Right you are, Kyon,' said Lelouch with an amused smirk, before turning grave. 'Still, I have to wonder. Where exactly do you all think we ended up?,' He and his fellow companions were now looking at their surroundings with concerned expressions.

There was only silence. And in that silence, it was almost as if it politely, and impossibly, cleared its throat.

Gradually, the Doctor, just like his companions, seemed to become aware of his surroundings as well.

He turned on his heel. His canvas trainers were already covered in dust. He let his gaze wander around the empty buildings and crumbling machinery and then sniffed. 'So where are we?' he wondered aloud, before eventually muttering. 'And is there really any point in talking to myself when my own companions were just discussing the present situation among themselves without me?'

He shot a black look at the TARDIS and then closed and locked the door. 'You can't even bring us anywhere interesting any more,' he grumbled. Then he relaxed a little and smiled, giving the police box an affectionate pat. 'Who am I trying to kid? There's always something interesting…'

He wandered down a path between two prefabs and called out 'Hello!' a few times. 'Anyone home?'

There was no reply.

'Hello!' he called again. His voice came back to him in a mocking echo. Above him, beyond a thin grey mist, was nothing but deep space and a distant neutron star.

'Uhhh...Doctor?,' said Sota Mizushino, looking around his surroundings, taking not of the fact that it seemed quite abandoned and hasn't been in use for a while. 'I don't think there's anyone here.'

'Brrr,' The Doctor said, wishing he had stopped to collect his coat before leaving the TARDIS.

And so, he and his companions trudged on until they found a steel podium, pitted with corrosion, supporting an old, scratched monitor screen. The Doctor pressed a few buttons on the keyboard but nothing happened. He tried giving it a whack with the flat of his hand, but it still wouldn't respond.

The sonic screwdriver broke through the computer terminal's dormant status in seconds. A minute later, the Doctor's and the companions' faces were bathed in a cool light as the screen activated. A rather fuzzy graphic swirled into focus:

WELCOME TO LODESTAR STATION 479.

'Well, thank you very much,' replied the Doctor. 'Lovely to be here. Not.'

He put on his glasses and started scrolling through the data.

'Ah, now that's interesting,' he said, smiling and nodding, gesturing his companions to look closer, pointing towards the screen. 'Everyone, look here. No wonder this place is deserted. No one's been here for, ooh, absolutely yonks. No need for a refuelling station in this part of space any more, is there? And here's poor little you, the computer interface, all forgotten and alone.'

He used the sonic screwdriver to delve a little deeper into the computer's databanks. 'Blimey, what's been going on in here, then? Your independent sub-routines have been messed around a bit, haven't they?'

Frowning, the Doctor glanced around for the nearest doorway. 'I'd better check your operational hard drive's not corrupted,' he turned towards his companions who were sporting concerned and thoughtful expressions. 'Wouldn't do for a place like this to go haywire. You'd have the Health and Safety department of the Shadow Proclamation down on you like a ton of bricks.'

The screwdriver made short work of the door and the Doctor and his companions went inside. It was cold and smelled of metal and oil. They were reminded of old, forgotten refineries on Earth; places full of the hard edges and unforgiving angles of brutal practicality. They found a stairwell and trotted down the steps, the metalwork rattling under the Doctor's plimsolls. The Doctor hooked out a pencil torch from his pocket and switched it on. The beam found walls studded with rivets and disused electrical cable. It was colder down here and there were cobwebs hanging thickly in the shadows. The Doctor and his companions brushed some aside, surprising a number of arachnid life forms that immediately ran for cover, their spindly legs skittering across the ceiling. They avoided some of the larger webs, with the Doctor thinking that he'd got on the wrong side of enough spiders in his life to know when to keep clear.

Further down, they reached a bare corridor with a concrete floor covered in debris and grime. His torchlight roved the area until it found a sign saying:

COMPUTER DATA CORE – NO UNAUTHORISED ACCESS

The access door was locked but it didn't take long to pick it. The sonic screwdriver proved to be all the authorisation the Doctor needed.

'That's odd,' the Doctor said aloud. His voice sounded flat in the confined space beyond. There didn't appear to be any computer terminals in here, and certainly no sign of any data core.

'What is it?,' asked Touma, looking towards the Doctor in concern.

'Look down, all of you,' said the Doctor, sporting a grim expression.

The companions all looked down. They saw some something lying on the floor which caught their immediate attention. It was white and smooth; half-hidden in what looked like a pile of laundry. The torchlight gleamed on bone and in that instant the Doctor recognised the shape as a human body, curled up against the opposite wall. It was a complete skeleton, held together by the last remnants of dried skin. It was wearing the remains of a one-piece overall, the decaying fabric tucked into cracked plastic boots.

Conan knelt down and inspected the body with his glasses, but there was no way of identifying it. 'What were you doing here, then?' he wondered grimly. 'Same as us, probably. Sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong…'

The door shut behind them with a loud clang.

The Doctor jumped up and tried to open it, but it was locked. He tried the sonic screwdriver again but it was no use. 'Deadlock sealed and rusted,' he muttered ruefully.

The companions begin to get their own sonic screwdrivers and aimed it towards the door. It was no use. It wasn't working.

'(Sigh). It's just not our lucky day, is it?,' said Touma, sporting an exasperated smile, lowering his sonic screwdriver.

'No Touma, I suppose it's not,' said the Doctor, looking towards his second son in sympathy.

He stepped away from the door and checked the cell – because that's what it had suddenly become – for any other way out. Of course there was none. They were trapped in here, alone but for the emaciated corpse on the floor. No way out and no one to know, or care, that they were here.

'Nice one, Doctor,' he congratulated himself. 'Now all we can do is sit and wait. Someone must have programmed the door to shut like that. They'll have to come and inspect their trap sometime, see if they've caught anything.' He stared mournfully at the skeleton. 'Any time soon…'

The companions could only sigh in resignation as they also stared at the skeleton.

'(Sigh). Well, I guess it can't be helped. Waiting is all that we can really do at the moment.' said Conan.

As far as random trips went in the Whoniverse, things were certainly taking a turn for an interesting mystery for the companions. They had arrived via time tracks on an apparently deserted planet, wandered into what the Doctor had told them as an old refuelling station, and were now trapped in the computer data core while checking out some 'anomalies' in the base's systems, without nothing but an old skeleton for company - something that the companions were pondering and discussing among themselves, wondering on what was this skeleton even doing here and is there any form of connection with this and them being trapped in the room - and no way out unless someone opened it at the other end.

In five days time, locked inside their new cell, the companions were just having lessons and stories be told from the Doctor, almost as if they were back in their own school or in TARDIS School. Hunger was not really that much of a problem considering that they and the Doctor had pulled out their emergency rations in their pockets which prevented them from starving to death, so that's one problem down. In the Doctor's case, due to his Time Lord biology, he was able to go without food far longer than the ordinary human.

Since day five, the five companions were just having a few side conversations here and there regarding their lives back in their respective universes. And of course, one could not forget that the Doctor would be using this opportunity to teach them lessons and stories regarding his many countless adventures and misadventures throughout the millennia.

Adventures such as him dealing with the Loch Ness Monster and the Abominable Snowman who were both tools for an alien invasion plot and also his meeting with such diverse historical figures such as Winston Churchill, Richard I and Arthur Conan Doyle, to which Conan payed attention immediately with interest due to the fact that he was a fan of Doyle's works and knew them by heart, with an entire collection placed at the Kudo family library back at the Kudo mansion.

Then comes the present conversation.

'British explorers on the moon. In 1878. I remembered how you talked about that in one of our history lessons back at TARDIS Class. How the heck did that happen again?," asked Touma, sporting a look of curiosity as he was simply leaning himself towards the wall with his arms crossed.

'Well,' the Doctor said, from where he was sitting casually against the door, repeatedly tapping a spoon against the door in a manner that the companions recognised as an 'SOS' signal, known as a Morse code. It would seemed to be useless at first glance, however, they recalled how the Doctor had explained that the interconnected nature of the base - every piece of hardware eventually linking up to everything else, even if some of the data subroutines for transmitting digital information had been tampered with for some reason - which meant that it was relatively likely to attract attention if someone came to the building, and using the sonic screwdriver ran the risk of depleting its power before someone came who could help. 'Like I told all of you and the rest of the class back then, it was a bit of a delicate situation, of course I wasn't certain at first if I should let it play out and develop into an alternate timeline or not; it might have been helped along by alien intervention but the expedition had still put the majority of the ships together using what they knew, but in the end the social implications of space travel for that time meant that it was easier to just get them to stop it and leave history intact.'

'Social implications,' said Lelouch, raising an eyebrow. 'Like the part where the pilot of one of the ships had a bit of a mental breakdown because he had been given a taste of freedom and control at the helm of the ship. In all fairness he was very good at it; everyone said he was the best the expedition had, and it went right into to his head."

'That's right,' the Doctor said, shaking his head slightly regretfully as he reflected back on the subject of that story, even as he continued to tap the spoon against the door. "The importance of social status at that time meant that he'd never manage to get that far in society even with a talent like that, his father was only a coal miner, apparently; he mentioned his father dying in the mines but I didn't have the time to find out more about him, and he ended up staging a mutiny that got most of the crew killed even before the ship was taken over-"

Further conversion was cut off when the door in front of them suddenly opened, revealing a small group of around four people, dressed in clothing that looked like it had been worn for a while, many of them carrying various-sized weapons, looking at the two of us in evident confusion.

'Who the hell are you?' Bowman's voice sounded like the distant thunder of an approaching storm, but the Doctor didn't seem bothered.

'I'm The Doctor, and these are my companions.' The Doctor replied, nonchalantly standing up, turning around to raise his hands to introduced his companions before he looked back at the crew, only for the leader to suddenly have a gun trained on a point directly between the Doctor's eyes, to the Doctor's and the companions' widened eyes in surprise and shock.

"What are all of you doing here?," asked Bowman, cocking his blaster pistol and aimed it at the Doctor's eyes.

'Doctor!,' said the companions, sporting worried expressions, only for the Doctor to gesture to them to get back and let him handle this, much to their hesitant compliance.

'Nothing!' the Doctor said, looking quickly around the bare cell, almost as if he was a child caught pilfering from the larder. 'Well, I say nothing. I've been sitting on my backside tapping out an SOS, as I and my companions were waiting for someone to turn up. But apart from that, nothing.'

'How long have you lot been here?' asked Stella, sporting a concerned and bewildered expression.

'Oh, ages. Absolutely ages.' said the Doctor, turning towards his companions. 'Well you lot, how long have we all been exactly trapped here?'

The companions were all looking towards each other, with each of them shrugging their shoulders and gesturing on who would get to answer the sudden pop quiz trivia of their second father. Conan would volunteer as he said in a matter-of-fact tone. 'Five days, fourteen hours and twenty-seven minutes.'

'Correcto-mundo!,' said the Doctor, sporting a pleased expression, pointing towards Conan. 'Ten points for Gryffindor.'

'Gryffindor?,' said Cuttin' Edge, sporting an annoyed and bewildered expression, 'What the hell is a Gryffindor?'

'Eh, don't worry, that's not important,' said the Doctor, waving his hand.

Stella gazed around the cell, utterly confused. 'Five days…?'

'Yeah, we're starving. You haven't got anything to eat, have you? And a cup of tea would go down an absolute treat.' He beamed and winked at her.

'Stop talking!' ordered Bowman. 'Cuttin' Edge – search him.'

Cuttin' Edge slung his rifle and moved in, knocking the Doctor's arms up out of the way and expertly frisking him. His suit was pretty tight fitting, Stella couldn't help but notice, and it would be difficult to conceal any fancy weaponry. In fact, he didn't seem to have anything on him except the teaspoon, a pencil torch, a pair of old-fashioned thick-rimmed spectacles, a wallet and some kind of cylindrical device with a blue light at one end.

'What's this?' asked Bowman, holding up the device.

'Sonic screwdriver.'

'Huh.' Bowman tossed the screwdriver back and the Doctor returned it to his pockets, along with all the other items except for the wallet.

'Here's his ID,' said Cuttin' Edge, flicking open the wallet. He paused and frowned. 'Says he's a pirate.'

'What? Give me that,' said Bowman, taking the wallet. He flipped it open and looked. 'Don't be an idiot. It says he's a…' The captain hesitated, squinting, turning the wallet around so that he could hold it up the light better. 'He's a… What does it say? I can't make it out.'

He gave the wallet to Stella. She opened it, looked up at the Doctor, then looked at the wallet again. 'It doesn't say anything. It's blank.'

The Doctor gently took the wallet from her and slipped it into a pocket. He was smiling at her, almost admiringly. Stella felt herself start to redden and said, 'You can't all have been down here that long. You're all still clean shaven.'

The Doctor rubbed his chin experimentally. 'Well, yeah… but you wouldn't believe the concentration it takes not to grow a beard for that long. It's going to itch like mad later on. And when it comes to my companions who are here with me, well,' He shrugged his shoulders. 'They have their own techniques on how to not grow a beard for that long.'

'OK, that's enough,' said Bowman. 'I don't know what the hell you're all doing here, Doctor whoever you are, but I can't afford to hang around on this dump any longer.' He turned away, losing interest, and spoke to Scrum. 'Get back to the ship and start refuelling. I want us off this rock PDQ.'

Scrum nodded and turned to leave. Then he said, 'What about the signal, skipper?'

'What signal?'

'The extra signal the computer's using.'

'Not interested. It's nothing to do with us. Now get going.'

Scrum left, and Stella saw the Doctor watch him go with a sharply quizzical look in his eyes. Bowman ordered Cuttin' Edge to check the area for provisions and, glaring sullenly at the Doctor, he left as well.

'Scrum has a point, you know,' Stella said to Bowman. 'None of this makes sense. Why were they locked up down here? Who locked them up?'

'You know, that's the first intelligent question anyone has asked,' said the Doctor brightly. 'What's your name?'

'Stella.'

'Well, you know what, Stella? I'd quite like to know who locked me up as well. Because until you lot arrived, we thought that we were the only persons on this planet.'

'What brought you all here?' asked Bowman. He was watching the Doctor (most especially) and his companions suspiciously all the time.

'I'm not sure. My ship got dragged off course.' The Doctor's cheery demeanour had suddenly been replaced by a thoughtful frown. 'There's something going on here that really isn't right.'

'Could it have something to do with that rogue computer signal that other guy who walked out of here was talking about?' wondered Sota.

'OI suppose so, Sota. Let's have a look, shall we?' The Doctor stepped past Stella to get to the computer terminal, pulling out his spectacles. He switched the machine on and the display screen lit up:

WELCOME TO LODESTAR STATION 479

'Yeah, yeah, done all that.' He flicked through to another screen:

HURALA – GATEWAY TO THE STARS

'What does that mean?' Stella asked as she and the companions were gathering around in order to see the screen.

The Doctor pulled a face. 'Not much. These places were just stopping-off points for people on their way to more interesting places. Look, here's a list of the nearest planets: Klechton – pretty dull, that one, to be honest. Jalian 17 – all right for a party if that's your thing. Tenten 10 – the Decimal Planet. Blenhorm Ogin – never heard of it…'

'Oh!' exclaimed Stella, pointing. 'Look! Arkheon! I've heard of that! They used to call it the Planet of Ghosts.'

'Ghosts?,' said the companions, sporting quizzical expressions.

'Oh yeah,' said the Doctor, nodding enthusiastically. 'Always wanted to go there along with my companions, but we never did get round to it. Think we did the London Dungeon instead. Or was it Madame Tussauds?'

'Can we get a move on?' snapped Bowman impatiently.

'Nearly there,' said the Doctor. Soon the little screen was filling up with more technical information. 'Now then… This is the baseline program for the refuelling station. It's fairly standard, but it's been dormant for years. It's activated again now, though, has been since I arrived. And that seems to have kicked off another program, something buried deep in the main server. Let's see if I can drill down…' He took out his sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the computer. 'Bingo!' he suddenly yelled, making the companions looked at him in concern, making Stella jump and Bowman glare murderously at him.

'What is it?' asked Lelouch.

The Doctor tapped the screen. 'Oh, that's good, that is. Look, everyone, look,' He was gesturing to his companions and Stella to come closer. 'An override system. It's a new program, bolted on. When it's activated – like now – it assumes total control of the entire base. No one locked us in that cell. It did it automatically. The base sensed I was in there and sprung the trap. Bang! Clever!'

Lelouch frowned. 'But why? What for?'

The Doctor grinned. 'Well that's the question isn't it?,'

'Well, here's another good question for you,' growled Bowman. 'What about that other poor guy in the cell?'

The Doctor and the companions looked sadly at the skeleton lying on the floor. 'I'm not sure. Possibly the same thing happened to him, but he wasn't as lucky as me.'

'You can say that again.'

Some of the companions were narrowing their eyes at Bowman in displeasure, not liking the implications of what he was subtly accusing them of.

'If there's something that you wanted to say, then say it straight to our faces,' said Kyon, sporting a displeasure expression, with crossed arms.

'...' Bowman didn't speak, but kept sporting that look of suspicion towards them.

An uneasy silence reign throughout the room for a moment.

'Or!,' suggested Stella, trying to break the tension, 'Perhaps he was one of the people who installed the override system. Well, someone must have done it. Maybe he got caught in his own trap.'

The Doctor's face darkened. 'Or maybe he was expendable.'

'Dead men tell no tales,' said Bowman grimly.

'Exactly.'

Stella shivered. 'But why? What's it for?'

'There you go again,' said the Doctor, sporting a brightened expression, using this perfect opportunity to cool the mood between the two parties. 'Asking all the right questions at all the right times. Keep 'em coming.'

'You like questions?'

'Love 'em! But you know what I like more than a good question? A good answer.' The Doctor looked expectantly at her and Bowman. 'Got any?'

They both shook their heads.

'Ah well, can't have everything I s'pose.' The Doctor looked back towards his companions. 'What about you lot? Got any?'

Conan begins to speak. 'Perhaps if we could isolate the new program in order to find who sprung the trap.'

'Correcto-mundo!,' said the Doctor, sporting a pleased expression, pointing towards Conan. 'Another ten points for Gryffindor.' He turned back to the computer terminal and went to work again. 'As Conan said, I would need to isolate the new program from here in order to catch the culprit.'

'Do you need to?' asked Bowman.

'The trap was sprung when I went in that cell, and the computer's sending a signal to alert someone. Your pal Scrum found it – but I wonder who it's meant for?'

'You mean whoever set the trap?' asked Stella.

'Got it in one.' The Doctor adjusted a control and they heard a strange, crackling signal repeating over and over.

'Not Morse code again,' said Bowman.

'No, far too complex.' The Doctor screwed up his face in concentration, as if trying to decipher the strange noise. 'It does sound familiar, though…'

'The thing is,' said Stella, 'that must have been transmitting ever since you arrived here. Five days, fourteen hours…'

'And… oh, thirty-one minutes, now. Yes. Good point. Whoever's supposed to receive that signal will have already done so.' The Doctor's face dropped. 'Which means they could be here any minute to collect their prize.'

The companions begin to look at each other in concern, anticipating company to arrive due to their second father's implications.

Bowman grabbed his communicator. 'Scrum – get that ship ready to go double quick. We're expecting company.'

There was no reply.

'Scrum? Do you copy?'

A loud squawk of static burst from the communicator.

They could hear Scrum's voice saying something but it was impossible to tell what.

'Something's interfering with the communications field,' realised the Doctor. Suddenly he was very serious. 'Whoever they are, they're already here.'

Stella swallowed. The companions were sweating. There was a rising tension in the air, as if everything around them was becoming charged with static electricity.

The Doctor was working at the computer again, rattling the keys with frantic speed. 'If I can isolate the signal and jam it from here…' Suddenly he stopped dead, fingers curved over the keyboard. 'Oh no. No no no. Listen to that.'

Stella and Bowman listened to the sound emanating from the computer speakers. It was a slow, heavy throb, like an electronic heartbeat.

The Doctor's face was ashen. 'It can't be…' he said. 'It just can't be.'

Bowman had drawn his blaster again. 'You'd better believe it,' he said.

The companions begin to pale in dread, slowly recognizing the sound little by little.

Darkness. That was the only word to describe it. Something that their second father had fought many countless times. Something that made them recall everything concerning a conflict in space-time to eternity. It made them recall about one of the most infamous enemies of that particular conflict. One that wanted nothing more than the total 'EXTERMINATION' of all life.

Insert Song: Start

Dies irae - Animation OST: Krieg

And then, with a terrible screech of rending metal, the doorway at the end of the corridor exploded open. Shrapnel sliced through the air and the three of them were already crouching, turning away, as something large and metallic swept through the wreckage.

Stella gaped in shock. The companions sported grim expressions and narrowed eyes, tinge in dread. There were three of them, filing through the remains of the door, their burnished bronze armour glinting dully, weapons swivelling in their sockets, eyestalks turning to stare at them with glowing blue lenses.

'Daleks!' whispered both the Doctor and the companions, horrified.

'EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!'

As soon as the companions whispered the word 'Dalek' at the sight of the creatures on the other side of the now-open door in front of them, they knew that they were in deep understated trouble; all the stories that they had heard, learned, and seen regarding the Daleks had all just come right back to them. They felt the sheer air of cold malice and aura that they were always presented as which was enough for them to be on guard and on high alert as the bronze tanks, piloted by tentacled abominations of war, were now about to start firing on them.

Stella cringed as the first Dalek screamed 'EXTERMINATE', knowing the end was about to come.

But just as the Dalek's gun blazed, a hail of automatic gunfire crashed into its head and neck section. The bullets had little effect, intercepted by the Dalek's protective force field before they could strike home, but it was just enough of a distraction to allow the Doctor and the companions to shove Stella and Bowman out of the way.

The Dalek blaster beam illuminated the corridor with a terrible blue glare. 'ACQUIRING SECONDARY TARGET!' grated the Dalek, its eyestalk swivelling. 'EXTERMINATE!'

On the stairs above them, Cuttin' Edge was taking aim with his assault rifle. He squeezed off another shot, the gun recoiling heavily, and this time the effect was rather different. The force field sizzled and there was a brilliant explosion.

When the smoke cleared, the Dalek was relatively unharmed, apart from a burning dent in its armour, but even the slightest delay was just enough for the humans and the Time Lord to escape, running for their lives up the stairs. Fear is a great motivator.

Cuttin' Edge sprayed the corridor with bullets and then sprinted after his friends. Directly in front of him was the Doctor, urging them all to greater speed as they clattered up the stairs.

'How did you do that?' the Doctor demanded. 'Guns don't work on Daleks.'

'This one does,' said Cuttin' Edge with a savage grin. 'We're Dalek bounty hunters.'

Stella caught the sudden glimmer of hope in the companions' wide-eyed stare, as well as the Doctor's who said. 'Is that right?'

'Maybe there's a chance we could survive this after all," said Kyon in half relief and half reassurance as he looked towards his fellow companions, who in turn looked back at him, agreeing with his assessment.

'ELEVATE!' They all heard the harsh command echoing up from below. They didn't need to look down to know that the Daleks were rising up the stairwell behind them.

'Hurry up!' yelled the Doctor, pushing them all forward. Stella stumbled and he caught her, lifting her, propelling her up the last few steps with remarkable strength. Bowman kicked open the door and they piled out into the dusty street outside. Cuttin' Edge slammed the door shut and spun the lock. Then he aimed his rifle at the mechanism and blasted it into molten slag.

'That won't stop them,' said Lelouch, sporting a grim expression.

'I know, but it makes me feel better.'

'Stop talking and move,' ordered Bowman, leading the way along the passageway at a run. He already had his communicator out again and was calling for Scrum to get the Wayfarer ready to leave.

Stella saw the Doctor turn back as the Daleks blasted their way out of the stairwell building. The first Dalek emerged, the glowing blue eye roving around until it fixed on them. Its body swivelled around and it started to glide after them.

And then stopped.

'WARNING!' grated the Dalek. 'WARNING! OUTER CASING UNDER ATTACK!'

A patch of black was spreading over the bronze dome of the Dalek's head section. Where Cuttin' Edge's last shot had struck, the metal was beginning to dissolve.

'EMERGENCY!' cried the Dalek. 'PROTECTIVE ARMOUR COMPROMISED!'

The other two Daleks examined the damage.

'MOLECULAR DISSOLUTION VIRUS. RETURN TO THE SHIP FOR REPAIRS!'

'I OBEY!' The Dalek rose into the air, its dome fizzing as the virus spread remorselessly, and flew away.

The remaining Daleks turned and glided after their prey.

Stella, Bowman, Cuttin' Edge the Doctor, and the companions hared through the base, dodging from building to building and alley to alley.

The Doctor skidded to a halt at one junction, grabbing Stella by the arm. 'This way! I've got my own transport.'

'Where?'

'Follow me! Come on, you lot – allons-y!'

'Let him go, Stella,' said Bowman. 'We're heading for the Wayfarer.'

Stella hesitated. Behind her, Bowman and Cuttin' Edge were glaring at her, urging her to follow them.

'We don't have much time,' Bowman insisted. 'What's the problem?'

The Doctor had stopped and was looking back at her. And there was something in his eyes, a kind of longing, or a bitter hope. He held out his hand. 'You'll be safe in the TARDIS. Come with us!'

In the end the decision was made for her. A Dalek slid into view at the end of the passageway, blocking off the Doctor and the companion's retreat.

'HALT – OR YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!'

Cuttin' Edge opened up with his rifle. Gunfire filled the alley with crackling thunder.

The Dalek blasted at them, but the shots went wild and suddenly they were all running again, tripping over each other, yelling at each other to move faster.

They reached the edge of the spaceport landing bays. And there, right in front of them, was the Wayfarer. Stella had never been so glad to see the old crate.

'That's your ship?' asked the Doctor, surprised.

'Yeah,' growled Bowman. 'Why? Don't you like it?'

'I know it doesn't look like much—' began Stella.

'But it's got it where it counts,' finished the Doctor. 'Don't worry, my ship's just the same.'

Scrum was unhooking a series of heavy cables from the spacecraft's underside. They were connected to a number of squat machines placed around the perimeter of the landing pad.

'She's not full yet, but we're good to go,' he called. 'Koral's already onboard.'

'Get her started!' roared Bowman.

Daleks were gliding into view from the edge of the spaceport. The blue lights of their eyes all turned to face the Wayfarer crew as they ran the last few metres to the ship.

'HALT!'

None of them did. Scrum was already inside the ship and the engines were whining into life, the whole vessel shuddering with compressed power.

Bowman sprinted to the foot of the ramp and turned to give the Doctor, the companions, and Cuttin' Edge covering fire as they helped Stella onboard. The smell of energy-weapon discharges filled the air.

And then suddenly the ship began to lift off, the landing ramp still extended. Bowman grabbed hold of one of the hydraulic supports, raising a leg to plant his foot firmly on the Doctor's backside, propelling him into the ship. The companions were now falling to the floor due to the sudden take off. Dalek gunfire screamed all around them, lighting the ramp with electric blue flashes.

The Doctor and the companions were scrambled to their feet. Ahead of him, Cuttin' Edge was helping Stella as the ship swayed. She was grinning, overjoyed to have made it, giving the Doctor and the companions a happy and relieved thumbs up as they came towards her.

'Scrum!' yelled Bowman. 'Get us the hell out of here!'

'Aye aye, captain!' Scrum called back from the flight cabin. 'We're on our way…'

Something exploded behind them, outside the ship, probably one of the refuelling pumps at the side of the landing apron caught in a Dalek blast. The fireball ripped through the air, causing the Wayfarer to stagger slightly, and debris filled the open landing ramp area just before the interior hatch finally hissed shut. The shockwave had already blown Stella backwards and sent the Doctor, the companions, Bowman and Cuttin' Edge sprawling.

'Stella!' The Doctor saw immediately that she was injured. There was a lump of metal, part of a fuel tank, sticking out of her thigh.

The Doctor crawled towards her. She was leaning against the bulkhead wall, her face pale, staring at him. The leg wound was deep and serious, with dark arterial blood spreading across her trousers.

'Oh, but that hurts,' she croaked.

'It's all right,' he said hurriedly. 'It's just a flesh wound. You'll be OK.'

'Hey,' she said, smiling weakly. 'I cross-trained as a medic, y'know. I can tell how bad it is.'

The Doctor squeezed her hand. 'You'll be fine.'

'We've got no more medical supplies onboard. Used the last of them on Scrum.'

Bowman stepped forward. 'Stop talking. You need to get into the med room.'

'Yeah,' agreed Cuttin' Edge. 'Man, that was close, but we're OK. Everything's gonna be fine, babe. We're outta here.'

'You guys alright,' said Touma, trying his best to stand up in a wibbly posture as he heads towards Conan, who was also trying to stand up, helping him up by offering him his right hand, to which the latter accepted with a thankful smile.

'Aside from the fact that we just got sent sprawling towards the floor, with me getting a major headache, otherwise, I'm fine,' Kyon deadpanned, rubbing his head due to dizziness, trying his best to stand up with the help of Lelouch who was helping him up.

The Wayfarer had swung away from the spaceport and was climbing, Scrum easing the ship up through the atmosphere as quickly as he could.

Bowman said, 'I'll get the medical computers fired up. Bring her through.'

'Don't waste your time,' said Stella as he left. She was pale and clearly in pain, but she kept on smiling. 'You'll be putting me back together with packing tape.'

'Try not to talk,' advised the Doctor.

'Hey, give a girl a break, I'm pleading for my life here…' Stella smiled grimly, tears filling her eyes. 'And don't let Cuttin' Edge operate, do you hear? He can't even use a knife and fork properly.'

'Are you kidding?' said Cuttin' Edge. 'I ain't goin' near that medical stuff. Never do. Anyway, he's the only doctor around here.' He jerked a thumb at the Doctor.

'I thought you said he was a pirate.' Stella laughed and turned to the Doctor. 'Want my advice? Try one of those emergency cryo-charges. Freeze me and get me somewhere they can operate properly.'

'Good idea,' said the Doctor. 'You keep on coming up with them.'

All of a sudden, Touma's sixth sense was tingling, which made him widened his eyes as he immediately looks behind them, with the sound of a loud screech of metal being heard. The interior airlock door buckled and then jerked in its housing, sliding away with a grinding protest. Beyond the door was the studded shape of a Dalek.

'What the hell!' yelled Cuttin' Edge, diving for his rifle.

The Dalek's sucker arm pushed the remains of the airlock door to one side, the metal and plastic crumpling in its grip. Its single blue eye blazed at them and its head lights flashed.

'EXTERMINATE!'

The Doctor had tried to pull Stella away, but it was too late.

The extermination beam struck her full in the small of the back, illuminating her with such powerful radiance that her skeleton and internal organs were clearly visible. The beam was kept trained on her, pinning her against the wall, its shrill whine merging with the horrendous scream of agony that seemed to fill the ship.

Eventually, after what seemed like an age, the beam ceased and her corpse slid to the floor.

"NO!" shouted Touma, raising his right hand in horror, as he and his fellow companions saw to their horror stricken eyes, Stella being gunned down mercilessly by the Dalek.

Cuttin' Edge opened fire at the Dalek with a scream of rage. The shots ricocheted around the airlock passage, sparking off the force field, filling the air with a storm of ammunition. The Dalek's eye turned implacably towards Cuttin' Edge as he stepped forward, rifle jammed against his shoulder, emptying the magazine into its head and neck. The Dalek remained impervious. It waited a second for the rifle to empty and then brought its own gun to bear on the human.

The Doctor lunged forward, hurling something at the Dalek. For the briefest of moments there was a clang as it struck the metal casing and a brilliant blue-white glare filled the airlock. Cuttin' Edge staggered backwards, caught in a sudden blast of incredibly cold air that took his breath away. He fell on top of the Doctor and the companions as they collapsed together in a heap of arms and legs.

Insert Song: End

Silence.

Cautiously, they sat up on the floor and looked at the Dalek.

It was frozen – literally. A chill white mist floated around the familiar domed shape, and the metal casing was covered from top to bottom in a thick white frost. Behind the lens of its eye, the blue light slowly faded, replaced by an icy darkness.

'What…what was that?' gasped Cuttin' Edge. 'What did you do?'

'I used one of the emergency cryo-charges.' said the Doctor as he and his companions got up and looked around the airlock, where the Dalek stood in a small blast area covered with ice.

Cuttin' Edge, satisfied that the Dalek was immobilised, ran over to where Stella lay. At that moment Bowman came running too, his boots pounding on the metal floor. He glanced uncertainly at the frozen Dalek and then knelt down by Stella. 'What happened?'

'Dalek chased us, must've got inside the airlock somehow,' Cuttin' Edge said quietly. He didn't need to say any more.

Bowman stared in disbelief at Stella's smoking body, his lips tightening and a muscle trembling in his jaw.

'I'm sorry,' said the Doctor behind him. 'I'm so sorry.'

The companions themselves gave their own form of contrite and mournful look, looking at Stella's dead body in sadness. They begin to stare at the now-immobilised creature before them. In a moment, they felt a very sharp chill that surpassed even the worse of their own fears. They knew. They knew what creature lurks beneath the bronze armor that is now cryogenically frozen. They knew exactly what this terror incarnate was capable of, drawing from their own personal experiences and lessons. Touma himself, among all the companions, would recognize the monster, with dread, and surprisingly, righteous anger, due to seeing what its kind could do, seeing the destruction that they were capable of bringing, seeing the endless battlefields of a conflict were they were heavily involved, seeing it through the lens of an ability known as Reading Steiner. All of this made the companions shake in the tremor of dread.

The Daleks. A species that infamously declared all out total war with all of creation, reality, and existence itself. A species that utterly eradicated countless races, civilizations, and pantheons. A species that declared all out total war with their second father's people - the Time Lords of Gallifrey.

Looking at the frozen member of an infamous species face to face, they found themselves secretly wishing to just set it to melt and be done with it just to be on the safe side of things. Normally, most of the companions, especially Touma Kamijou and Conan Edogawa, being the penultimate examples of mercy and compassion for both friend and foe alike, would never even thought of any of this nor entertain it in their minds. However, when it comes to the Daleks, they knew to themselves that nothing could ever be done.

You cannot save a Dalek; You can only run from it, if only to keep yourself and many others safe.

You cannot reason with a Dalek; You can only kill it, if only to make sure that it won't kill anyone else.

They begin to recall what their second father had told them and to many of their fellow companions and honorary companions.

"There is something that you all need to know about when you would eventually face the Daleks. You do not bargain with them. You do not reason with them. For they do not feel the concepts of pity or remorse or fear. For they do not feel the concepts of mercy and compassion. For it will never stop killing for every waking moment of their accursed existence. For it has only one thought and one word in its mind which summarizes all of the goals and ideals of the entire Dalek Race. EXTERMINATE."

They begin to sport grimaced expressions, tinge in dread.

Bowman took a long, shuddering breath, and then stood up. He straightened his shoulders and lifted his head. His face was an expressionless mask, but the deepset eyes were smouldering with fury as he turned to look at the Doctor. 'Get that thing off my ship.'

He didn't need to point at the Dalek. Everyone knew what he meant.

'I'm sorry, I can't,' said the Doctor. His voice was barely a whisper. 'The outer airlock door's been damaged – probably in the explosion as we took off. It's jammed. We might be able to—'

Bowman ignored him, turning back to Cuttin' Edge.

'Get it fixed. Get rid of it.'

'Yes, sir.'

The Doctor said nothing. Bowman looked back at the immobile Dalek for a second and then asked, 'Is it dead?'

The Doctor approached the Dalek cautiously, with the companions making cautious postures and grimaced expressions. He waved a hand in front of the frost-covered eyestalk, but there was no response. Very carefully, he walked right around the Dalek, inspecting it from every angle. Finally he poked the gun-stick. There was no reaction. 'No vision, no motive power, weaponry offline. I'd say it's as good as dead.'

'As good as?'

'You never can tell with a Dalek. But it's cryogenically frozen – they are sometimes susceptible to a sudden reduction in temperature, particularly if caught off guard. Cuttin' Edge was shooting at it from close range, so there would have been quite a bit of power diverted to the defensive force field. Enough to allow the cryo-charge to do its stuff, at least.'

'That was quick thinking.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'Not quick enough. And anyway, it was Stella's idea.'

They should have been celebrating, thrilled and excited by the fact that they had defeated an unstoppable foe – but instead, all they felt was a sense of utter failure. None of them could bear to look at Stella's body.

'I should have acted faster,' insisted the Doctor. 'She didn't deserve to die like that. No one does.'

'I don't know what the hell you were all doing on that planet,' Bowman growled, 'but everything went wrong the moment we found you all.'

Some of the companions could only glare in anger at the tall man, not liking the subtle accusation that was hurled right at them.

'It's not my fault,' the Doctor sported an expression of grief and self loathing.

'Just keep telling yourself that.' growled Bowman.

'Alright, that's it!,' shouted Kyon, beginning to slightly raise his hand, turning it into a fist in order to punch Bowman, only to be fortunately stopped by Touma and Sota who were close to his position.

'Kyon, calm down!' said Touma, holding his best friend down with all his might in order to prevent him from doing anything rash.

Cuttin' Edge stepped up, holding Bowman back from doing anything rash. 'Easy, skip. We need to move Stella.'

'Looks like we're stuck with you,' grumbled Bowman menacingly at the Doctor and his companions. 'At least until we get that airlock fixed. Until then, keep out of my way.'

As soon as he walked off, Touma and Sota were still holding Kyon from going after him in order to punch the ever living daylights out of Bowman.

'Kyon, stand down!,' ordered Doctor, sporting a paternal expression that denotes that Kyon needs to listen. 'It isn't worth it, trust me.'

At that moment, Kyon would reluctantly stand down, breathing in and out in order to calm himself, with Touma and Sota finally letting go of him since he managed to calm down without doing anything rash.

Conan and Lelouch were looking to each other, sporting grave expressions and uncertain glances, silently pondering on the fact that they weren't really sure what worried them more; being stuck on a ship where they were almost certainly not going to be particularly popular additions to the crew, or the fact that we were going away from the TARDIS, or the fact that the Daleks were here of all places raises the important question that has been pondered deeply in their and their fellow companions' minds.

What time track did they just jumped into?

Once the Wayfarer was in deep space and travelling at top speed, Bowman went to his cabin and ordered that no one should disturb him. Scrum was left at the helm while Cuttin' Edge, having helped move Stella's body, went to fix the airlock.

He found the Doctor and his companions there, with the former examining the Dalek with his sonic screwdriver. 'The cryo-charge worked better than I thought,' he said as he slightly looks towards his companions. 'This thing seems to be completely defunct. It acts as a life-support system for the creature inside, so I imagine it's dead.'

'You know a bit about the Daleks, then?' asked Cuttin' Edge warily.

'...A bit,' said the Doctor, sporting a hesitant expression, with his companions sporting grim expressions due to also knowing 'a bit' about the Daleks.

Cuttin' Edge peered at the Dalek, which was still wreathed in a freezing mist and caked with frost. 'Man, we were lucky. I really thought my time was up.'

'It wouldn't have worked if you hadn't been shooting at it.' The Doctor glanced at the rifle slung over Cuttin' Edge's shoulder. 'What kind of ammunition does that thing take? You damaged that Dalek on Hurala – I've never seen that done before with a conventional firearm. Lucky shot at the eye, maybe, but that was something special.'

'MDV,' said Cuttin' Edge. 'Molecular Dissolution Virus. It's something Scrum developed. Bastic-headed bullet to penetrate the force field. Then it infects the armour plating and just eats its way through.'

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. 'Ingenious. It'd have to act fast, though. It would take an extremely aggressive MDV to beat the automatic self-repair molecules that make up the bonded polycarbide.'

Cuttin' Edge was peering carefully at the head and neck section of the Dalek. 'What I don't understand is why the thing didn't work this time. I had it point-blank. Should've rusted its damn head clean off.'

'Well, your weapons are smart all right,' said Conan, looking towards the frozen Dalek, 'but the Daleks are smarter. Their armour learns and adapts. By the time your metal-eating virus was chewing its way through that first Dalek, it was already analysing the damage and transmitting emergency defence protocols so its mates wouldn't get caught out in the same way.'

'Now you're sounding just like Scrum, kid,' Cuttin' Edge muttered, bewildered at the young boy for being surprisingly quite knowledgeable on the Daleks for someone his age. 'He's usually the brains of this operation.'

'Operation?' asked Conan, sporting a curious expression.

'We're bounty hunters employed by Earth Command to kill Daleks. We get a fixed bonus for every eyestalk we collect. Which reminds me…' Cuttin' Edge reached for his belt, unhooking a laser tool.

He moved to grab the Dalek's eyestalk but Lelouch batted his hand away. 'Don't touch it! These things can absorb genetic data from your DNA – all it takes is one touch, and it might be enough for it to start regenerating.'

'I thought the Doc said it was dead.'

'You can never be too careful where Daleks are concerned, believe me.' said Lelouch, sporting a grave expression.

Slowly, reluctantly, Cuttin' Edge returned the laser to his belt. 'So what's your story? How come you all know so much about the Daleks? You all don't look like a soldier.'

'Nor did Stella,' Kyon pointed out in a grave reminding tone.

Cuttin' Edge stiffened. 'She was different.'

'So are we,' said Conan, sporting a serious expression.

'If you say so, kid,' Cuttin' Edge didn't sound convinced. 'Just what were you all doin' on Hurala, anyway?'

The companions begin to look at each other, sporting grave and concerned expressions. The Doctor sighed and scratched the back of his neck, saying. 'We're not sure, to be honest. My ship was acting up a bit – guidance systems all gone to pot.'

'You're a long way lost to be out here, dude.'

The Doctor looked up with a smile. 'You know, I think that's the first time anyone's ever called me "dude".'

'Don't get carried away. Captain Bowman wants you off the ship, an' I ain't arguin' with him. And besides, it don't alter what I said: your ship must be way off course for you to end up this far from Earth space.'

'Oh, it's not space I'm worried about,' said the Doctor, lost in thought. 'The TARDIS seems to have slipped a time track… We've travelled back in the Daleks' own timeline to way back when.'

'I thought Scrum talked funny, but you beat him hands down, dude.'

'We really shouldn't be here,' said the Doctor seriously, looking towards his second sons. 'I mean, this is wrong in so many ways. We've gone back to a point before the Time War even started, and under normal circumstances, that's impossible. But we're here and so are the Daleks, right in the middle of the great conflict with Earth's first Empire.'

'You ain't making any sense at all.'

'What year is it, Cuttin' Edge?'

'You and your kids were only in that cell for five days. Get a grip.'

'Just answer the question.'

Such was the severity in the Doctor's voice that Cuttin' Edge answered automatically. As the answer was blurted out, the companions all begin to realize where and when they finally are on the meta-time zone scale of the Known and Unknown Multiverse.

The Second Dalek War.

It was a war in the Whoniverse Prime N-Space Verse between the Dalek Empire and the humanity in the 26th century, between the year 2540 to c.2580s. It was one of a series of conflicts which became known as the Dalek Wars. Sparked in 2540 by the exposure of a Dalek conspiracy to set the Earth Empire and the Draconian Empire at war with each other, the Daleks' main enemy in the war was Earth. Human-Draconian relations were marred by lingering mistrust and no effective long-term united front against their common foe was established. The two rival empires concentrated on defending their own space sectors, granting the Daleks the advantage of the initiative. Many other species and worlds were dragged into the war as well. By its end, both Earth and Dalek war machines were bleeding dry in attritional fighting. Numerous setbacks suffered by the Daleks led them to push forward with and accelerate the development of their own capabilities in the field of time travel. The resulting strategies ultimately proved overambitious and ended up as the root of the Daleks' undoing. Within the galaxy of Mutter's Spiral, the Second Dalek War ran concurrent with the long-standing conflict between the Sontarans and the Rutan Host. The conflict lasted over forty years. It was followed by the Third Dalek War some time later.

Fortunately, the war never grew into a time war. Unfortunately however, the research that the Daleks had conducted would lay the groundwork for future campaigns through time, foreshadowing the Last Great Time War. And this begs the grave question among the companions themselves.

What are the Daleks planning at this very moment in time?

'Ahh,' said the Doctor, nodding slowly as realisation dawned. 'Let me guess: the Daleks are rampaging through the galaxy. The Earth Empire is resisting them in every way it can, but the battles rage on year after year across all the solar systems. Some humans have never known a time when they've not been at war with the Daleks.'

'Guess so.'

'The Dalek Generation. But you've reached the tipping point, haven't you? Two mighty galactic powers, facing off across the stars. Two giant superpowers vying for supremacy, slugging it out planet by planet. It could go either way.'

'That's about the size of it. We're doin' what we can out here on the edge, raiding Dalek space, messin' with their supply lines. Earning a living.'

'...You've chosen a harsh life.' said Touma, sporting a sad expression.

'Never known any other kind, kid. I was brought up on Gauda Prime and we're born fightin' there. Regular army couldn't stomach me – said I was too much of a loose cannon, an' I wouldn't let them recondition me.'

'Good for you, then. It's always best to just say no.' said Touma, sporting a sad smile.

'Ended up on the Wayfarer with Captain Bowman. There ain't nothin' he don't know about killin' Daleks.'

'Then we've more in common than I thought,' the Doctor commented drily.

'Hey, Bowman's all right. He's a soldier's soldier, if you know what I mean. They don't come any tougher than Jon Bowman. He was a trooper in Earth Force One, back in the day. A veteran of the Draconian Conflicts too. They say he was on the front line at Tartarus. He's an expert in weapons an' tactics and he was stickin' it to Skaro's finest before I was out of short pants.'

'I'm glad to hear it. Don't think he likes me much or my companions for that matter.' said the Doctor, sporting a sad understanding smile.

Cuttin' Edge looked away. 'We all liked Stella. She was one of the good guys. Captain Bowman was like a father to her.'

'I see.'

The door hissed open and Scrum came in. He nodded at Cuttin' Edge but avoided looking at the Doctor. 'Skipper says we're going back to Auros.'

'Auros?' repeated Sota, sporting a curious expression.

'Stella's planet,' explained Scrum bleakly. 'We're taking her home.'

Auros was one of the colony worlds that formed the backbone of the Human Empire. Even at the Wayfarer's top speed, it would take the best part of a day to get there.

Bowman remained in his cabin, while Stella's body was stowed in the medical bay, cryogenically frozen in the same way as the Dalek. No one appreciated the irony, least of all the Doctor.

The Doctor and his companions paid their respects. She was lying peacefully on the narrow examination couch, arms folded across her chest, looking like a marble effigy on a tomb. Her skin was as white and perfect as alabaster, covered by a thin veil of freezing mist.

The Doctor wanted to say he was sorry, but what would be the point? She was gone. Whatever had made Stella unique was no longer here. Her body remained, but the person – the intelligence, the good humour, the courage that he had glimpsed so briefly – they were gone from the universe for ever. It was something the Doctor would never truly understand, no matter how much time had passed throughout the millennia. For he never really did liked endings no matter what face that he wore. He and his companions could only wish that she would find peace in the afterlife. However, considering the meta-time zone that they are in 'now', the afterlife would not be safe for very long. For when the Last Great Time War struck at the precise hour, the afterlife, no matter what version in the Known and Unknown Multiverse, were sadly not spared, whether in greater or lesser degree. This didn't make them feel any better and just made things far worse in a hindsight of 50/50.

'You really liked her, didn't you?' Scrum asked the Doctor from the passageway. There wasn't room for more than two people at a time in the medical cabin.

'Yes,' replied the Doctor. 'I did. She reminded me of someone… something… I miss.'

'She was good company.'

The Doctor bit his lip and nodded. 'Yeah, I bet she was.'

'Doesn't do to dwell,' Scrum said. 'She's going home, that's all we need to know.'

'Does she have any family?' asked Lelouch.

'No, I don't think so,' Scrum shakes his head.

'I see. That's for the best I suppose,' said Lelouch in a sad tone.

Scrum shrugged. 'Never really thought about it. So many people are orphans now.'

'Because of the Daleks?' asked Sota, sporting a grave expression.

'Yes, Sota. They call it the Dalek Generation for a reason.' said the Doctor, sporing a grave expression.

'We know, Doctor. We know,' said Conan, sporting a grave expression.

Scrum cleared his throat, clearly wishing to change the subject.

The Doctor looked up and forced a smile. 'Has Cuttin' Edge managed to fix that airlock door yet?'

'He's working on it.'

'Not too hard I hope.'

'He'll have it fixed in time for us to land on Auros. You all can get off there.'

The Doctor nodded, turning towards his companions. 'We'll need to get back to Hurala. The TARDIS is still there.'

'Hurala will be crawling with Daleks,' Lelouch pointed out.

'That's what worries me, Lelouch,' said the Doctor, sporting a grim expression.

The Doctor and his companions followed Scrum down the narrow passageway to the galley area. He could hear the sound of Cuttin' Edge's tools further down the corridor by the airlock. Glancing along the passage, the Doctor and the companions were surprised to see that the Dalek had gone.

'We had to move it,' Scrum explained. 'Cuttin' Edge didn't have any room to work.'

'That was risky,' said Lelouch, sporting an alarmed look. 'Even a dead Dalek is dangerous. They've got a hundred different automatic defences.'

'It's all right, we didn't even touch it. I used a couple of cargo grapplers to shift it down to the hold. Besides which I think that cryo-charge has completely disabled the thing. It didn't even twitch when Cuttin' Edge took its eyestalk off.'

The Doctor and the companions stopped in their tracks. 'He did what?!'

'Cut off the eyestalk. You know, for the bounty.'

'I thought I told him not to do that,' said Lelouch, displeased at the fact that he didn't listen to his advice due to the possible risks involved.

Scrum looked at the Lelouch, a little bemused. 'Kid, he doesn't take his orders from you. Captain Bowman is in charge here, in case you hadn't noticed. And the bounty on those things is what keeps us alive. It's a confirmed kill, and that's what Earth Command pays us for. We deliver that eyestalk to the authorities on Auros and we can afford to eat again.'

'I know that perfectly well,' said Lelouch, narrowing his eyes. 'But what he did was a possible risk for everyone on this entire ship.'

'Lelouch, that's enough,' the Doctor ordered, in order to prevent another possible argument that would ensue. 'What's done is done,' he begins to sit down in the galley, looking just as displeased with the situation as his second son was.

Scrum sat down opposite him. 'I've been thinking about that Dalek, actually. It's not often I get the chance to look at one up close – at least, not for long. There must be a lot of stuff I could learn from it, if I could take it apart.'

'Don't even think about it, man,' warned Kyon darkly.

'It's dead, kid. I could crack it open with the right tools.'

The Doctor and the companions stared at him with grave expressions.

'Believe me, you really don't want to do that. Every Dalek has defences against that sort of thing. It would be like playing with a live hand grenade. The creature inside may be dead, but that casing is chock full of anti-handling devices and booby traps that would make your hair curl. There are enough self-destruct mechanisms packed inside one of those things to keep a team of bomb-disposal experts happy for a month,' said Conan darkly.

'But while it's here—'

'Forget it, man. As soon as that airlock door is fixed, dump it in deep space and forget it about. That monster is far too dangerous for anyone on this ship,' said Touma, darkly.

Scrum wanted to say more, however, looking at the serious expressions of the Doctor and his companions, warning him greatly on not planning to do what he plans to do, he couldn't help but comply. He simply stood up, sighing in resignation. 'Alright fine, I won't do it. If anyone needs me, I'll be at the bulk,' He was now leaving the galley, with the Doctor and his companions looking back with grave expressions.

There was simply silence.

After the silence, the Doctor and the companions would now begin to discuss about their current predicament.

"So...," Touma asked, looking uncertainly at the Doctor, deciding it would be for the best to finally settle any confusion about the main issue that was bothering them right about now. Unlike the rest of the people on this ship, they were at the very least sure that they and their second father knew that there were no more Daleks left back in their meta-time zone, and if they were, it was usually just survivors and remnants of their Time War Empire, which doesn't seem to be adding up to their situation right about now. "How exactly did we all ended up…"

"How did we all ended up here in a time where and when they're engaged in a war with the Earth Empire?," the Doctor finished for him, shrugging slightly with a kind of strained nonchalance. "I have a couple of theories, but they're not exactly pleasant; the most likely prospect is that we've slipped through a temporal anomaly of some sort and ended up in a time before the Time War took place, but beyond that..."

"A 'temporal anomaly'?" Conan repeated in curiosity.

"Oh, well, as you all would know by now, there are many different types of anomalies, really; a hole in the Time Vortex, a crack in the fabric of the local multiverse... you'd all be really amazed on how many little flaws the Known and Unknown Multiverse can develop over time, even without outside interference," The Doctor said, the expression on his face almost casual at the current topic before another thought seemed to occur to him. "Of course, something like this isn't the first time I have encountered before, there were a few instances of it happening here and there, and I and the rest of the League have been dealing with these anomalies ever since, normally it doesn't happen, but that doesn't mean it couldn't happen; Gallifrey's destruction wasn't exactly something anyone had anticipated either..."

"Uh...why was that?," Touma said uncertainly, uncomfortable about bringing up what would almost certainly be a deeply personal issue for the Doctor due to the fact that he and his fellow companions already knew enough about what had happened to the Time Lords, but feeling obligated to ask it anyway; something in the way The Doctor said that suggested that he was referring to more than just the planet's physical destruction. "I mean... was there more to it than just Gallifrey blowing up...?"

"Gallifrey's destruction created...to put it in terms you'd understand, it made a ripple in the space-time continuum," the Doctor explained, looking solemnly as he spoke, the weight of the current topic of discussion clearly heavy on his mind even without the knowledge of what was happening in the main hold. "Essentially, the event created a disruption in the Time Vortex around Gallifrey and its entire history in the meta-time zone scale, making it almost nearly impossible to navigate or even see the area at any point in the planet's history, and given my people's already unique relationship with time, we had no fixed point in history where we were located; it was one of the main reasons we'd never had to fight a war before the Time War as one of us would need to guide our enemies to the planet in the first place unless our enemies had the kind of time travel skills we possessed, it basically means that us and anything we did were completely erased from history; I had to spend a lot of time after Gallifrey's destruction making sure that there were other time-active powers set up to deal with the little anomalies that we would have kept track of on our own, to which of course there were as always, whether inside or outside.'

Lelouch opened his mouth to ask a question that has been on his mind, but the Doctor beat him to it as always. "And yes, the Daleks themselves got caught in the ripple as well, which is why most of them were erased from the Known and Unknown Multiverse in the process; pretty much the only people who'd really remember them now are the Higher Races, the Temporal Powers, the Multiple Pantheons, many other unmentionables, the countless people who travelled with me, given that I was...well, I wasn't caught in the blast."

"And we're here because we slipped through a hole in the ripple created by that anomaly you mentioned?," said Lelouch, while making a mental note about the anomalies that could potentially be a problem in the future.

"Basically, yeah; whatever rift we were hit with sent us all back to a point ' before '- as far as we can be said to be at a point in existence before something that changed all existence took place- the ripple was created." the Doctor confirmed, before he smiled slightly. "On the bright side, getting back shouldn't be a problem; I just need to get back to The TARDIS and then we can retrace our steps-"

"Yeah, that's good." said Touma, sporting a grave expression on his face, while thinking that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance that they could-

"I know what you're thinking Touma, but the answer is that we can't do that," the Doctor said simply, cutting off his thoughts, his face had a paternal and cold resolution that was directed towards him.

"Eh?," Touma reacted, sporting a surprised expression. "But if this is before the war-"

"We can't," the Doctor continued, shaking his head grimly as he looked at them all. "I can't change history, Touma; some moments in history cannot just be altered, especially at this scale, and what happened to Gallifrey is one of them."

"But it's your world-" Touma said, briefly wondering on why would the Doctor not take this opportunity to stop the Time War before it ever truly happened and avoid the countless deaths that would have occurred if it never truly come to past.

"That doesn't matter," the Doctor said, staring at him with a slight gleam in his eyes that he quickly recognized as tears. "We can't go back, Touma; stopping the Time War creates too many variables that nobody could possibly predict. I might save my people, but the cost...," he paused for a moment, an expression of deep pain on his face as he looked away from me, his shoulders shaking from suppressed emotion.

"You mean...the Daleks?" Kyon asked uncertainly, when the silence reached a point where it felt too uncomfortable for the Companions. "Stop the War from happening, and...the Daleks remain alive and as strong as ever?"

"Not just them," the Doctor said, an intense expression on his face as he looked towards everyone. "What the War would have done to my people, what they would have become..."

"What they would have become?" Conan said, looking uncertainly at him as well; they all knew that the Time War wasn't exactly pleasant, but the idea of the Doctor being worried about what his people might have become raised an alarm on his and the rest of the companion's minds.

"For a moment...," the Doctor began, pausing as though trying to find the right words for what he was about to say before he finally continued. "When the War began...I saw its future."

They blinked at that.

"You...saw its future?" Lelouch said slowly, before the implications occurred to him. "Then...you saw them lose-"

"Not all the way to the end of the War," the Doctor interrupted him, shaking his head as he looked out at nothing. "I didn't see the final outcome, since there were too many final outcomes to count, and I was trying my best on not to pay too much attention to what I was looking at anyway; it violated countless Laws of Time for me to see anything, but my companion back then was...very insistent-, but what I did see..." he shuddered. "Can you imagine looking into your future, and learning that everything you were- everything you stood for, everything you strived to accomplish, everything you've dedicated yourself to defending- would be abandoned by the people you should have been able to trust more than anyone else?"

The companions were silent at that as some of them knew all too well how that entailed.

"That's what I saw," The Doctor said simply in a grim tone. "I saw my own people transform themselves physically and mentally into monsters because it was the best way to fight the War... I saw them abandon everything they stood for to pre-empt the enemy's pre-emptive strikes...I saw them plant weapons of mass destruction capable of wiping both sides out of existence along with countless other races...entire worlds born and erased almost simultaneously as time was twisted to the point where almost none of the Old Laws applied any more..."

He lowered his head for a moment, his voice slightly hoarse at the apparent intensity of the memories he was recalling, before he looked resolutely back at me, clearly determined to ensure that they understood what he was about to say. "If I save them...even if I stop the War before it can start...before they can do any of that...what they became...something that would violate all The Laws we as Time Lords are sworn to uphold...wins in the end... I become what I sacrificed everything to stop them becoming...and I cannot let that happen."

The five companions would begin to understand something at this point.

Interfering at this moment in the meta-time zone could have unforeseen consequences. Time is a very different beast altogether, coming in many different shapes and forms, depending on the local multiverses. Then there was the unpredictability of the Time War itself. No matter what they do to try to ultimately stop the War from truly happening, there would always be certain unknown variables that could or would lead to the Time War becoming far more unpredictable in the long and short run.

To summarize, despite some reservations on the matter, they knew that it was far better to leave the relative past well enough alone. The only thing he should focus now would be to figure out their next move, figuring out on how to help the crew of the Wayfarer and themselves in order to survive against the Daleks.

After the conversations between father and sons, it was decided that there was no point in sitting in the galley doing nothing but look morose, and so, the Doctor begins to go out exploring while his companions were sitting back at the galley, discussing other plans and thoughts for their current predicament. He and his companions were stuck on the Wayfarer at least until it reached Auros, and so he might as well get his bearings. Besides, he couldn't resist having a little look around. Which, he reflected, is what had got them into this mess in the first place.

The first thing he decided to do was check out the engine room. It was a small ship, but powerful, and he wondered what kind of propulsion system it used. Not many spacecraft of this era relied on antiquated fuel systems like astronic recharge.

On the way to the engine room he passed by the hold, and the Doctor couldn't help but pause to look in through the plastic window in the door.

There was the Dalek, like some terrifying ice sculpture, glistening in the cargo bay lights. Where the eyestalk should have been attached to the dome, there was only the stub of the pivot nestling in its metal cowl. A couple of wires and fibre-optic filaments dangled from the hole.

Even robbed of its eye, the Dalek looked dangerous. The very shape of it chilled the Doctor to the bone. He had too many bad memories, too many nightmares, to feel anything but revulsion.

And fear.

He took a deep breath and the little window clouded over slightly, obscuring the frost-whitened demon within. It was only that which prevented the Doctor from spotting the single drop of water that fell from the rim of the Dalek's sucker arm.

Cuttin' Edge was working on the door. The outer bulkhead had been slightly distorted, causing the running tracks for the main airlock to jam. He had the tools to fix it, but the truth was, he just couldn't concentrate.

All he could think about was Stella. All he could hear was the shrill scream of the Dalek's death ray, and the equally shrill scream of his friend as she died, spread-eagled against the wall by the sheer force of the energy blast. All he could see when he closed his eyes was the brilliant blue flare, and Stella's skull, thrown back with its jaws wide open.

His hand slipped and he barked his knuckles on the metal grating of the deck. He swore and then threw the gravity spanner across the passageway, where it hit the floor with a heavy clang.

'You'll get me next time,' said Scrum. The spanner had just missed his foot as he came round the corner.

Cuttin' Edge shook his head. 'I can't do this.'

'Course you can. You've been taking this old crate apart and putting it back together for years. We both have.'

'I don't mean that. I can fix this thing in my sleep.'

Cuttin' Edge heaved a sigh and sat back on his haunches, resting his muscular arms on his knees. 'I mean… Hell, I don't know what I mean.'

'We fight Daleks for a living,' said Scrum quietly. 'We could be killed any day, any one of us. You know that. We all know that – Stella did too.'

'That don't make it any easier. She never wanted to be part of this, not like us. Her dyin' like that – it just feels wrong, bro.'

'I know what you mean.' Scrum sat down on the deck opposite him and reached into a belt pouch. He produced a small metal flask, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip.

'Here.' He passed it to Cuttin' Edge.

'What is it?'

'It's an old Earth drink. Very old. It's expensive, because it's so rare.'

Cuttin' Edge raised the flask, swallowed, and almost choked. 'Hey – what the hell is that stuff? Damn' near killed me!'

'Consider it medicinal.'

Cuttin' Edge took another sip and then gagged and blinked. 'What's it called?'

'Ginger beer.'

'Sure has a kick.'

'I only use it for special occasions.' Scrum took the flask back and drank again. 'To Stella – one of the good guys.'

'Amen to that.'

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, passing the flask back and forth. Eventually Scrum put the lid back on and stowed it away. 'What do you make of that Doctor?' he asked.

'Well, he sure ain't no pirate,' said Cuttin' Edge. 'But other than that – I don't know. I don't understand half of what he says. He's a bit like you, in that respect, only better lookin'.'

Scrum sniffed. 'He and his kids know things.'

'Like what?'

'About the Daleks – stuff they aren't telling us.'

'Maybe. It don't really matter, though – either way, Bowman's gonna kick their bony butts off the ship as soon as, and a good thing too.'

'Why do you say that?'

Cuttin' Edge leant forward. 'Because whatever, or whoever, they are – he's brought us nothin' but bad luck.'

The engine room was a little further on, to the rear, or aft, section of the vessel. The closer the Doctor got to the heavy astronic motors, the more he could feel the vibration through the soles of his trainers. The noise level increased too. He thought he could detect a slightly irregular beat coming from the coolant pumps, and felt a flicker of interest – it almost certainly meant a problem with the regulator valves, and perhaps he could fix them, or improve them, and thus gain some points with the rest of the Wayfarer crew.

But something caught his eye as he approached the engine room. Further down the corridor, there was a movement in the shadows.

'Hello?' he said, trying to see what it was. It was dark down here, the passageways lit only by a series of small amber lights running at shoulder height along the walls. Thick cables and pipes ran the length of the ceiling and steam from the coolant pumps floated up through the deck plates, a sure sign that the regulator valves were worn.

'Anyone there?'

The Doctor caught a brief glimpse of something lithe and dark, with bared fangs glinting in the lights – and then it was on top of him, bearing him to the ground with an angry snarl.

'Captain wants to see you and your kids,' it said in a sibilant whisper, completely at odds with the ferocious beast the Doctor had been expecting.

He frowned. 'What?'

'I said, the captain wants to see you and your kids,' repeated the alien sitting on his chest.

He lay there for another moment, unable to think of a suitable reply.

'What?' he said again, eventually.

She jumped off his chest. When the steam from the coolant pumps had drifted away, the Doctor saw a tawny, humanoid figure with a pair of luminous eyes. He scrambled to his feet, straightening his jacket in an attempt to regain some of his dignity, and peered at the strange, leonine face.

'Do you attack all your guests like that?'

'It depends.' Again, the reply was barely more than a whisper.

'Depends on what?'

'On whether I like them or not.'

'I see,' said the Doctor, rubbing his throat. Only seconds before, he'd been convinced this creature was going to rip it out with her bare teeth. 'I take it you don't like me much, then.'

'If I didn't like you, you'd be dead already.'

She turned and led the way down the passageway, disappearing into the shadows.

'Right,' said the Doctor. 'That's that clear, then.'

Bowman was sitting at his desk, cleaning a large automatic blaster. He didn't look up at the Doctor and his companions until the door hissed shut behind him.

'Doctor,' said Bowman eventually. He said the word as if it tasted bad.

'Captain.' said the Doctor, sporting a serious expression. His companions were also sporting serious expressions.

'It's been a long time since I was entitled to any kind of rank,' he said. 'I'm captain here only because the Wayfarer's my ship – and this is my crew. Officially, we don't exist.'

'You're mercenaries.' the Doctor pointed out.

'Bounty hunters.' Bowman sat back and folded his arms, the muscles rippling beneath skin tanned by the suns of a hundred different worlds. There were signs of many old wounds, and one livid white scar on his forearm. 'Mercenaries will work for whoever pays them the most. We hunt Daleks, and Earth rewards us for every kill. There's a difference.'

'Of course there's a difference.' said the Doctor, sporting a sad smile. 'If you say so.'

'I do. We work for Earth Command and no one else.'

'I know Earth Command. They're running scared. The Daleks are engaging them on every front, pushing back the boundaries of Earth control. And now Earth's prepared to use any and every method to stop the Daleks in their tracks – even mercenaries. Or bounty hunters.'

'You say that like it's a bad thing.'

'The problem is escalation. Tit-for-tat raids in the border regions, no one really cares. But then a planet gets wiped out and suddenly it's all over the news. But it's no use trying to hold back the Daleks with a bunch of willing cut-throats on the front line. Earth will have to send in troops – thousands of 'em. Half of them will be no more than kids themselves, joining up because they think it's the right thing to do.'

'And you don't think it is?'

'I don't believe in innocent people getting slaughtered.'

'The Daleks want to conquer our entire galaxy. We have to fight them.'

'Of course you do, I'm not denying it and neither would my companions for that matter,' the Doctor clarified. 'But it's the way you fight them that matters. They want to drag you into a long, drawn-out war because that's what they like. Destruction, killing, slaughter – extermination. It's what they do. You're playing right into their hands. Suckers. Whatever.'

'You and your kids seem to know a lot about them.'

'Enough to know that, eventually, if you're not careful, the Daleks will drag you all down fighting. Every single human being. It's what they want.' said Lelouch, sporting a resolute expression.

Bowman watched the Doctor and his companions carefully, as if weighing up the words and trying to decide whether to question the former further or just shoot him on the spot, but he decided to discard the latter option due to the fact that he has kids with him. Despite his negative reception to the Doctor and his companions, he was not a heartless monster who just shoots in cold blood. There was an unreadable, stony look in the captain's eyes. At that moment, there was a distinct change in the background rumble of the Wayfarer's engines as the ship altered course. The intercom on Bowman's desk bleeped and Scrum's voice said, 'Just entering the Auros system, skipper.'

'OK,' Bowman replied. 'Let me know when we're coming into orbit.' Then he turned back to the Doctor and his companions, and said, 'Sit down.'

There were six prepared seats in front of Bowman's desk and the Doctor sat, lifting his feet and resting his trainers casually on the edge of the desk, while the companions sat down in a much normal position. Something caught the Doctor's eye immediately, and he reached out to pick up the holopicture. 'Aww, is this your mum and dad? That's so sweet! You've got your mum's eyes, you know. Only she doesn't seem to be frowning so much in that picture. Bet she doesn't even know what you do for a living. Bounty hunter, eh?'

'Put that down,' growled Bowman.

The Doctor tossed the holopicture across the desk and Bowman caught it with a snap of his hand. 'Now – what did you want to see me and my companions about? And who's that charming creature who fetched me and my companions here – your bodyguard? Hired muscle? Ship's cat? You don't look like you need any of them, to be honest.'

'I don't. But Koral is unique. She is fast, strong and very loyal. She also has claws that can rip through sheet metal.'

'Really? I don't think I've seen her kind before.'

'Her planet was destroyed by the Daleks – she's the last of her kind.'

'...I know the feeling,' The Doctor sported a grim expression.

'I saved her life,' Bowman said simply. 'She was dying, suffocating in the smoking ruins of her own world. I took her onboard the Wayfarer and nursed her back to life. Now she believes she owes me that life, quite literally. She has sworn to protect me.'

'It's an old story,' the Doctor remarked, 'but I still don't think you need it.' He nodded at the heavy blaster pistol resting on the desk.

'True, but what else is there for her to do? Life with me gives her the one thing she craves – the chance to destroy Daleks. Something I have seen her do with her bare hands, incidentally. In a recent encounter with some space pirates, one of my crew was slightly injured in the altercation. Koral leapt on the bandit who fired the shot and ripped his head clean off with one stroke of her claws. Her loyalty extends through me to the rest of the crew.'

The Doctor whistled. 'And the rest of your crew…what kind of tricks can they do?'

'Scrum is a brilliant computer technician and theoretical scientist – or so he tells me. He's also a wanted criminal throughout Earth space, so it's difficult to substantiate his claims. But as he invented most of our anti-Dalek weaponry and defence systems, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.'

'And what about Cuttin' Edge?'

'Used to be a Space Marine, one of the best – except that he couldn't handle military discipline and ended up on the wrong end of a dishonourable discharge. Something to do with murdering his commanding officer, I believe.'

'And what about Stella?' The Doctor spoke softly, cautiously, but he had to ask. 'She didn't exactly fit in with you lot – criminals, killers, people who can tear through sheet metal.'

Bowman stared at the Doctor. 'Stella was a good kid. That's all you need to know.'

The Doctor nodded. 'I liked her.'

'You hardly knew her.'

'I'm a good judge of character.'

'Is that so?'

'Yeah, so look: I and my companions really don't want to hang around here any longer than we have to, and I know you certainly don't want us here, so how about we forget all this chit-chat and go our separate ways? You needn't bother throwing me overboard, either. Just drop me off when we get to Auros and we'll call it quits.'

Bowman didn't reply straight away. He simply continued to work on the blaster pistol, clicking each component into place without even looking.

Eventually, he said, 'Not so fast, Doctor.'

The Doctor and his companions (who were now sporting slight narrowed expressions, tinge in subtle alarm) watched as Bowman finished reassembling the gun.

'You see,' Bowman said, 'I've been thinking about you and your kids, Doctor. It's been preying on my mind ever since we left Hurala. That planet's nothing but a forgotten piece of grit on the edge of space. So what were you all really doing there? And, more importantly, what were the Daleks doing there? They don't do anything – or go anywhere – without a reason.'

'We've honestly have no idea,' replied the Doctor. 'In fact, we shouldn't really have been there. We can hardly speak for the Daleks.'

'Is that so?' Bowman made no attempt to hide his scepticism. 'Normally in these circumstances, I would peg you for a spook.'

'Spook?' The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

'Earth agent. Military intelligence. Why else would you be stuck on Hurala just when the Daleks turn up? You couldn't even provide any proper ID. You've got "secrets" written all over you. There wasn't any other spacecraft there when the Wayfarer touched down. I bet if I asked you straight how you got to Hurala you wouldn't be able to answer. But there's a problem with that theory considering the fact that you have children with you. Who exactly are they to you anyway?'

'Oh, that might take a while to explain really,' The Doctor and the companions looked to each other with subtle smiles. 'Me and these brilliant boys go a long way back, having many countless adventures together. I practically raised these boys. Their lives were one that I had the privilege to be apart of and would never take back.'

Bowman raised an eyebrow. 'Is that so?'

The intercom on Bowman's desk bleeped again and Scrum's voice crackled through: 'Skipper! We're just coming into orbit around Auros…'

Both Bowman, the Doctor, and the companions heard the strange, anxious tone. 'What's up?' asked Bowman.

'Something's wrong,' Scrum replied, his voice trembling. 'Badly wrong. You'd better come and take a look, skip. Auros is burning.'

The planet was on fire. From the large portside viewing window, the crew of the Wayfarer looked down in disbelieving horror as the surface of the planet churned and broke apart, molten lava erupting from beneath the shattered crust, incinerating everything in its path and filling the atmosphere with toxic gas.

Auros had been a typical human colony world – naturally located in a temperate biosphere around its parent sun, with one small moon. It was a beautiful planet, with equatorial rainforests, mountains, deserts, grassland and oceans, and men had come here in their droves, keen to escape the overcrowded Earth.

The Doctor and the companions looked up from the unfolding devastation, sporting grim expressions on their faces. Scrum was white-faced, and there were tears running down his cheeks.

'Any communications?' asked Lelouch, looking towards Scrum with a grave expression.

Scrum shook his head. 'We didn't establish contact beforehand. We're not always welcome.'

'There were some ships flying away when we got here,' said Cuttin' Edge slowly. 'Looks like they were evacuatin'. A couple of them said we should clear out too. Auros is goin' down.'

'The last ship to leave told us to cut and run,' Scrum added quietly. 'They said the Daleks were coming.'

A chill spread through the Wayfarer, and even Koral – watching from the shadows through narrowed, smouldering eyes – moved closer to the others.

Jon Bowman stood behind all of them, like the statue of an ancient god overlooking Hell. His hard, rock-like face reflected the orange and red glow of the dying planet.

'I've seen this before,' he growled. 'It's the Osterhagen Principle.'

"..." The companions could only look at the Doctor with grim expressions, tinge in subtle dread, recognizing the term from anywhere.

'They've scuttled the planet,' explained the Doctor in response to Scrum's questioning look. 'There's a network of nuclear devices across the planet, buried deep below ground. It's a self-destruct mechanism.'

'It's designed to prevent the enemy getting hold of the planet,' said Bowman. 'When all else fails.'

'I know what it's for,' said the Doctor bleakly. 'It was invented on Earth over five hundred years ago. It was a bad idea then and it's a bad idea now.'

Cuttin' Edge stepped back from the window, rubbing a hand over his shaven head in confusion. At first he seemed almost lost for words, but then he said, 'Hey, they must have done it for a reason, man.'

'You heard what they said,' Scrum argued. 'The Daleks are coming. Maybe this way the population will have time to escape.'

'Yeah,' Cuttin' Edge nodded. 'Yeah. At least this way the Daleks don't get the planet.'

Cuttin' Edge was desperate to make sense of what he was seeing, to find a way to come to terms with the terrible destruction consuming the charred surface of the world below. But all the Doctor could feel was the bile rising in his throat, a stark revulsion that he couldn't contain. 'It's a stupid, stupid waste,' he said. 'All they've done is save the Daleks a job. They'd have destroyed a planet like that anyway. Now they don't even have to bother.'

Scrum glared at the Doctor, and there was hate in his tearful eyes now. 'Don't say that,' he moaned.

'I'm sorry,' said the Doctor quietly. 'But it's what the Daleks do.'

'I can't watch it any more,' said Scrum. He turned away from the window and leant his head against the wall.

His whole body was shaking.

'Take it easy, bro,' said Cuttin' Edge. He rested a hand on his friend's shoulder and shot the Doctor a venomous look.

'Satisfied?' Bowman growled at the Doctor. 'First Stella, now her homeworld. What's going on?'

'Like what the Doctor said, we don't know,' Lelouch said the last with emphasis in order to bring it straight to the point, already irritated with the same stupid question that was asked for what felt like the nth time. He looked out of the window again, observing the surface of the planet below, vast chunks of charred land broke away into seas of boiling lava. 'But I can definitely say that it wasn't the Daleks who did that.'

'What do you mean by that, kid?' asked Bowman.

'Human beings did that,' Lelouch said in a funereal tone. His big, dark violet eyes never left the planet. 'All those cities and homes and farms and fields… the sum of human endeavour on a beautiful new world. All gone – deliberately wrecked. A self-inflicted wound.'

Bowman's temper flared. 'What choice did they have, kid? Auros is too far from Earth Command for them to protect it against a fleet of Dalek destructor ships. This was the only way to protect them. The only way. Don't you see that?'

'All I honestly see is a planet in flames and not a Dalek in sight.'

'Then the survivors should count themselves lucky.'

At that moment, the Doctor begins to sport a look of epiphany as if he figured something out. Then he clapped a hand against his head and yelled, 'Of course!'

The others stared at him.

He looked up, his eyes wide with a sudden, horrific realisation. 'Oh no. Oh no, no, no…!'

And then he pushed straight past Bowman and ran towards the flight cabin. 'We need to contact them – warn them! Hurry!'

The companions all nodded to each other, setting off after the Doctor.

Bowman jerked his head, and Cuttin' Edge and Scrum obediently set off after the Doctor.

'Doctor, what exactly are you doing?,' asked Sota, as he and his fellow companions were all looking at the Doctor who was all over the controls, leaping from one panel to the next, flicking switches and jabbing buttons with frenetic speed.

'What's up?' Cuttin' Edge demanded as they reached the flight cabin. 'Hey – what you doin', man?'

The Doctor was practically tearing his hair out. 'I'm trying to make contact with the refugees,' he gabbled. 'There must be a long-range transceiver system onboard a ship like this – but where? This thing's been repaired, replaced and reconditioned more times than my TARDIS!'

'Here,' said Scrum, sliding into one of the cockpit seats and activating a control unit. 'It's a hyperlink data-stream salvaged from an old Draconian battleship. It can tap into almost any major communications signal.'

'Brilliant!' The Doctor slipped on his glasses and studied the console over Scrum's shoulder. 'Send out a broad-contact beam. But scramble the signal. We don't want to be any more visible than we have to be, do we?'

'What's going on?' asked Bowman as he entered the flight deck. Koral was at his shoulder, a shadow among shadows.

'We've got to warn the people who left Auros,' said the Doctor without looking up. 'Tell them to turn around and head back home.'

'What?' Cuttin' Edge frowned. 'You gotta be kiddin', man…'

'Their home is burning,' Bowman said. 'They're running away, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the Daleks.'

'Are they?' Lelouch asked, sporting a grave expression, looking straight at Bowman. 'This is the Daleks we're talking about, remember. They don't let people go. It's not in their nature.'

And in that instant, Bowman understood. 'The Daleks will ambush the fleet. It's a trap.' He turned to Scrum and barked, 'For God's sake, man, get them on the hyperlink now.'

'I'm working on it,' Scrum assured him. His fingers flew over the communications controls, his tears forgotten as he concentrated on the task. 'Here we are. Looks like they left Auros in commercial passenger ships and cargo freighters, plus some private vessels. A convoy, packed with the entire population.'

'How could they have organised all that so quickly?' wondered Cuttin' Edge.

'There's probably not all that many of them in planetary terms,' said Conan, sporting a grim expression. 'No more than a few thousand. They will all have been located near to the major spaceport, or owned spacecraft of their own. And fear is a great motivator. Once the countdown for the Osterhagen nukes started, I bet they all moved pretty fast.'

Bowman's face was a grim mask in the light of the control board. 'Too fast,' he growled.

'I still don't understand—' Cuttin' Edge began.

'Shh,' said Scrum. There was a rush of static from the panel. 'I've done it – I've hacked into the Auros convoy's communications network.'

The Doctor leant in and grabbed the microphone by its flexible neck. 'Auros convoy! Do you copy? This is the Wayfarer calling the Auros convoy – can you hear us?'

A burst of static, then: 'This is the Auros convoy.' The screen fizzled into life and the grainy image of a tired, anxious-looking woman came into view. 'I'm Vanessa Lakestaad—'

'Listen to me—' began the Doctor.

'Do you wish to join the fleet?'

'No, listen—'

'You can't miss us,' Vanessa Lakestaad said. 'There are nearly four hundred vessels in this convoy alone…'

'Stop!' yelled the Doctor. 'Turn back!'

'I'm sorry, you're breaking up,' said the woman, frowning. The image crackled. 'There's another signal interfering with yours. It's very powerful…'

The companions widened their eyes at that, not liking were this is heading, having a very ominous premonition that things were just about to turn ugly.

The Doctor's grip tightened on the microphone and his knuckles turned white. 'Turn around!' he yelled. 'Tell the fleet to split up! Scatter! Run for your lives!'

'What? I can't hear you. Wait – here's that signal again. It's drowning you out.'

There was a loud crackle from the speakers and Scrum winced as the picture suddenly zigzagged and disappeared. 'We've lost contact…' He adjusted some controls. 'We can still hear them but they can't hear us. Someone's blocking our signal.'

The woman's voice came again, loud and clear, almost as if she was standing next to them on the flight deck of the Wayfarer. 'Unidentified vessel, this is Vanessa Lakestaad, Leader of the Auros refugee fleet. Our homeworld is destroyed. We are fleeing for our lives. Please identify yourself.'

There was a long pause. And then a harsh, grating voice filled the cabin: 'SURVIVORS OF AUROS! PAY CLOSE ATTENTION!'

'Oh my God,' whispered Scrum.

The Doctor and the companions sported horrified expressions as the image on the screen slowly resolved into the familiar dome of a Dalek head. The eye glowed a bright blue, almost filling the screen.

'WE ARE THE DALEKS! YOUR EFFORTS TO ESCAPE ARE USELESS! PREPARE TO SURRENDER.'

'Please,' said Vanessa Lakestaad. Her voice now sounded small and frightened, suddenly almost childlike. 'You… you must let us pass. We are a refugee fleet, heading for the Inner Worlds. We can't—'

The metallic voice interrupted her. 'SILENCE! YOU WILL TRAVEL NO FURTHER. YOUR CONVOY IS SURROUNDED.'

'No, please, you can't mean that! You mustn't! We don't want to fight!' A sob broke through Lakestaad's words. 'We can't fight. We can't…! We're private vessels, merchant ships only. This is the entire population of Auros. We claim refugee status…'

'SILENCE! YOU HAVE DESTROYED YOUR OWN PLANET AND FLED INTO SPACE.' The Dalek voice rose in pitch as it grew more excited. 'YOU ARE NOW PRISONERS OF THE DALEKS!'

'I don't understand…' began Vanessa.

'YOUR SPACECRAFT WILL BE BOARDED AND YOUR PASSENGERS TAKEN AS PRISONERS. ANY ATTEMPT AT RESISTANCE WILL BE MET BY EXTERMINATION.'

'No! You can't!'

The Dalek's voice grated on: 'AS AN EXAMPLE TO THE REMAINDER OF THE REFUGEE FLEET, YOUR VESSEL WILL NOW BE DESTROYED.'

'Please, no…' whispered Vanessa.

Scrum turned in his seat and looked up at Bowman.

'We've got to do something!'

But Bowman stared impassively at the communications console, utterly powerless.

The Doctor closed his eyes. The companions could only watched in wide-eyed horror, feeling utterly powerless to stop the madness that is right in front of them.

'Please… Have mercy on us,' wept Vanessa. 'I beg you…'

'EXTERMINATE!' shrieked the Dalek.

There was a howl of feedback, echoing around the flight cabin like a blood-curdling scream. And then, abruptly, the signal died and the air was filled with white noise. The image of the Dalek faded slowly from the screen.

Scrum buried his head in his hands. Cuttin' Edge swore and looked down at his boots. Koral stepped closer to Bowman, who simply stood, rock-like, his eyes narrowed into grey slits as if his gaze could pierce the walls of the ship and see across space, to where the Auros fleet had once been.

There was complete silence on board the Wayfarer now.

The Doctor gently switched off the radio.

'Gone…' Scrum was saying softly. 'That woman… All those people – just… gone. Slaughtered.'

Bowman turned his cold, steely eyes on the Doctor.

'You knew that was going to happen.'

'I guessed,' said the Doctor quietly. 'The Daleks knew the survivors would run for their lives. It was a simple matter to position the Dalek ships ready to intercept the convoy. A lot quicker and easier than attacking the planet itself. They kill the leaders and take the rest prisoner.'

'They never stood a chance.'

'No,' agreed the Doctor. 'They didn't.'

Bowman's lips compressed into a thin, bleak line and his face was white with anger. 'There's something going on here which I don't understand. First the Daleks turn up on Hurala, right out on the very edge of nowhere. And now this. Taking thousands of prisoners in one go. Why? What's going on?'

'I don't know.'

Bowman had grabbed the Doctor by the lapels of his suit and slammed him up against the bulkhead wall.

'Doctor!,' shouted the companions, trying to make their way towards the Doctor, only to be blocked from their path by Koral who was shaking her head, raising her hand in order to keep them calm, looking back towards the scene with concern.

'The hell you don't!' he roared. 'You never saw Auros before! Fields and oceans and blue skies! Men and women and kids! They had everything!'

'I'm sorry…'

'Sorry isn't enough!' Bowman swung the Doctor around, hurling him across the cabin. He crashed against the door and then slid to the ground in a crumpled heap.

'Sorry isn't nearly enough.'

The Doctor got to his knees slowly and painfully. His glasses were now broken. He felt as if every bone in his body was still vibrating from the impact with the wall, and his mouth hurt. The front of his suit was creased where Bowman's giant fists had held him.

'Don't bother standing up,' Bowman growled menacingly, 'unless you want me to knock you down again.'

The Doctor touched a finger to his lip. There was blood where it had split.

The companions were growing worried by the very second.

'You know more than you're telling,' Bowman insisted. 'You know what all this is about. Don't you?'

Scrum and Cuttin' Edge were watching the altercation.

Scrum looked nervous but Cuttin' Edge was sneering.

'You best tell us what you know, man. Otherwise we may have to make you.'

The Doctor stood up, slowly, to his full height. As tall as Bowman was, the Doctor could still look him in the eye. And he did this now, unflinchingly, his gaze cool and level, removing his broken glasses and threw them to the floor. 'You can beat me up if you want to,' the Doctor told him. 'Here and now. Go on. Give it your best shot. If it helps, your two pals here can hold my arms. How about it, fellas? No?'

Scrum shook his head and even Cuttin' Edge looked away.

'Stop wasting my time,' Bowman said.

'I never waste time. So, come on. Here I am!' The Doctor held his arms out wide. 'Use your fists, do me some damage. Get rid of that anger and frustration. Don't hold back, Bowman, I'm not armed. I'm just a skinny guy in a suit. Come on, Bowman! Hit me hard! Sort me out!'

By now the Doctor was practically shouting in Bowman's face, daring him to continue. The captain of the Wayfarer stared back, unmoving, but the muscles in his jaw and face were quivering with barely suppressed anger.

Then Koral stepped between them. 'That is enough. Everyone mourns for Auros. We should be fighting Daleks, not each other.'

There was a long, deadly pause.

Then the Doctor smiled, giving his thanks. 'Thank you.'

Bowman was still seething, but, somehow, Koral had been able to prevent him losing his temper completely. He scowled at the Doctor. 'What were the Daleks doing on Hurala? What are they up to? We've stumbled across something big here, and I think you know what's going on.'

All eyes turned to look at the Doctor. 'I don't know,' he told them solemnly. 'Really, I don't. Not even my companions know. We really shouldn't even be here. We're in the wrong time and place altogether. In fact, I'm in the wrong time and place in more ways than you can imagine.'

'You always talk like that,' muttered Cuttin' Edge. 'Don't make no sense.'

'I just want to know what the Daleks were doing at the Lodestar station on Hurala,' repeated Bowman wearily. 'That's all.'

Scrum cleared his throat. 'Actually, captain, I think I may know a way we can find out.'

It was still cold in the cargo chamber, and the Dalek was still frozen.

But not as frozen as it was.

Now there was a steady trickle of water running down the segmented shoulders, dripping from the gun and sucker, pooling on the floor beneath the base. The head dome was almost completely clear of frost.

'What's happening?' asked Bowman.

'It's thawing out,' said the Doctor. His eyes were wide and anxious.

'Who asked you?' demanded Bowman. He turned to Scrum. 'I thought it was dead.'

'Perhaps it still is,' Scrum replied, circling the Dalek slowly, examining the casing. 'Perhaps this is some kind of automatic response by the armour.'

'But?'

'Yeah,' said Cuttin' Edge, 'I can sense a big "but" there, too.'

'But… I was thinking,' said Scrum, 'that the armour is actually a life-support system. Perhaps when the cryocharge hit it didn't kill the creature inside but it froze it as well. Exactly what a cryo-charge is supposed to do, after all.'

'Wait,' said the Doctor. He stepped forward, right up to the Dalek. And then he hesitated, almost as if he was trying to convince himself of what he should do next. He took an old stethoscope out of his jacket pocket, clipped it into his ears, and placed the other end against the Dalek casing very, very softly.

Everyone was silent. All that could be heard was the steady background rumble of the ship's engines and the occasional drip of melting ice.

The Doctor had closed his eyes, concentrating. He moved the stethoscope to another area of the casing and listened again. Then, finally, he tried it against the black grille between the bronze neck rings.

Then the Doctor's eyes snapped open, the pupils dilating. He straightened up and backed away from the Dalek very quickly. 'It's alive,' he whispered. 'Inside. It's still alive.'

"..." The companions all made horrified expressions.

'I knew it,' breathed Scrum. A strange light came into his eyes as he watched the machine creature. More water trickled down through the frosted globes on its base unit.

'It's thawing itself out. The casing is doing it automatically.'

'This is bad news, man,' said Cuttin' Edge.

'The worst,' confirmed the Doctor. 'It's not strong enough to control the machinery yet, but it will be…'

Bowman said, 'Not really interested in your opinion, Doctor. All I know is we've caught ourselves a live Dalek here. I don't know anyone who's ever done that before.'

'It's better than that,' said Scrum excitedly. 'It's thawing out very slowly. We've got it totally under our control. If we disable the weaponry and self-destruct system we can render this thing completely harmless.'

The Doctor and the companions frowned at him.

'No Dalek is ever completely harmless.' said the Doctor.

'So what are you suggesting, Scrum?' Bowman asked.

'I suggest we open this thing up,' Scrum replied. 'And ask it a few questions.'

The Wayfarer suddenly became a hive of activity. Scrum and Cuttin' Edge set about securing the Dalek, wheeling in equipment and tools into the cargo hold with an air of professional urgency.

The Doctor and the companions caught up with Bowman in the corridor, heading for his cabin.

'You can't be seriously considering this, Captain,' said Lelouch, sportng an alarmed expression.

'I'm deadly serious, kid,' replied Bowman over his shoulder. 'This is a golden opportunity to gain first-hand intelligence from an actual Dalek. No one's ever done that before.'

'Bowman, it's a golden opportunity to get us all killed,' Kyon argued. 'Why don't you just take the thing back to Earth Command? Let them handle it.'

'No way. Earth Command is too far from here. We're in deep space, kid. Out here, no one can hear you whinge.'

'Bowman, I mean it—'

'Me too. We're on our own, kid. Just us and the Dalek. I've waited a long time for this.'

The Doctor let out an exasperated gasp, pinching his eyes. 'You're messing with things you just don't understand!'

Bowman rounded on him. 'No,' he growled. 'I understand the Daleks only too well, Doctor. I've fought them all my adult life. Fought them. I saw good soldiers and friends gunned down by those things, vaporised, like they never even existed. We all listened to the leaders of Auros being shot out of space in cold blood…'

'Believe me, no one knows the terrible things the Daleks can do better than me but—'

'Really?' Bowman paused in the doorway to his cabin. He looked doubtfully at the Doctor. 'That thing killed Stella. And you know how those Dalek guns work, don't you? On full power, they can blast a human being into atoms in a split second. But they never do that. Every Dalek dials down the power on its gun-stick to the specific level that will kill a human being. Then they lower the power setting just a tiny bit further, so that the beam burns away the central nervous system from the outside in, meaning that every human being dies in agony. So it takes a full two to three seconds for a Dalek to exterminate one of us – and that's deliberate.'

'I know,' said the Doctor. 'I know all that. But it still doesn't mean that what you're about to do is right. You can't just use it as an excuse to take your revenge for Stella's death.'

'But revenge is what I want,' said Bowman simply.

'So that's it then?,' said Conan, sporting a displeasured expression. 'Stoop down to their level of cruelty? Is that what humanity ends up becoming in order to win this war?'

Bowman sported a hesitant expression, slightly looking away from the young boy. 'You wouldn't understand, kid.'

Cuttin' Edge had used the cargo loader to suspend the Dalek upside down from the ceiling. Its base unit was clamped into the lifter's giant metal slide grips. It hung in the middle of the chamber, its dome section level with Scrum's head.

'Perfect,' said Scrum, giving the thumbs up. 'See if you can secure the arm now.'

Cuttin' Edge was standing at the remote-control unit for the cargo loader. A few deft adjustments and a powerful metal clamp moved down from the lifting apparatus to grab hold of the Dalek's sucker arm. Cuttin' Edge increased the torque until the clamp began, very slowly, to dent the metallic tube which made up the arm. It was utterly immobilised. The door to the cargo hold slid open and the Doctor moped in, hands in pockets, with his companions walking beside him in turn. The Doctor looked up at the Dalek and tilted his head, frowning. 'Why upside down?'

'The loader's gravity field cancels out the Dalek's elevation units,' explained Scrum. He was moving around the Dalek, examining the neck and shoulder sections carefully. 'I've rigged a high-frequency radio-wave jamming field too, which should counteract the motive unit.'

The Doctor nodded, impressed. 'Yeah, that might work. I've done that a couple of times myself. It'll interfere with the guidance systems at least, and maybe the motive unit. But it won't last for ever. You'll get ten seconds, tops, before it finds a way to cancel the jamming field.'

'That's all we'll need.'

'You know this is wrong, don't you?' the Doctor asked, sporting a grave expression. He picked up a couple of tools from a nearby table, checked them over, tossed them back down. 'Wrong in so many ways.'

Cuttin' Edge looked scornful. 'We know what we're doin'.'

'And one of the many ways in which it is wrong,' continued the Doctor, 'is the way in which it is insanely, obviously and ludicrously dangerous.'

'Hey, we're Dalek hunters, dude. We do this for a livin'. Scrum's got everything covered.'

Scrum cleared his throat. 'Actually, I was rather hoping you and your kids would help, Doctor.'

'Not a chance.' The Doctor responded in the negative before his companions could say anything.

'You or your kids may not agree with what we're trying to do, but you all must want to make sure the Dalek is truly defenceless.'

'No Dalek is ever truly defenceless.' The Doctor sighed. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. Sucked in his cheeks. Blew out a long breath between his teeth and scratched the back of his neck. Looking towards his companions who were sporting concerned expressions. 'Oh, all right fine. We'll help. But not because I approve of what you're doing. I just don't fancy my and my companions' central nervous systems being fried from the outside in – or watching yours being fried, for that matter.'

'We've immobilised the Dalek and secured the arm. It's effectively blind but—'

'Watch that sucker,' warned Kyon, pulling Scrum away from the Dalek's reach. 'I've seen those things crush bricks like that.' He closed his fingers into a sudden fist.

'Uh, thanks. Well, as I said – the Dalek is effectively blind…'

'Vision impaired,' muttered Conan, narrowing his blue eyes. 'That's how they like to put it. But don't forget it's got sensor systems all over its body.'

'It's the gun I'm worried about,' Scrum sported a worried expression.

'Yeah, you really want that out of action.' Sota begins to examined the weapon housing. 'Best thing is to remove it completely.'

'Is that possible?' asked Scrum.

'While it's still thawing out we can try.'

As Sota was speaking, the Doctor pulled a small set of steps over so that he could see the gun platform more easily. He took out his sonic screwdriver. 'There are four galvanised trintillium bolts securing the armour plate here around the ball-and-socket joint. See? We've got to get those out before we can see what's what.'

Scrum's eyes widened. 'Can you do that?'

'Let's give it a go,' answered the Doctor, clicking open the screwdriver.

Bowman kept an old bottle of Draconian branka in his cabin. He unscrewed the lid and sloshed some into a plastic cup. He stared at it for a second and then swallowed it down in one. The fire spread through his throat and stomach and he closed his eyes to appreciate the flavour. Then he grimaced.

'Yuck. Never did like that stuff.'

'Yet you still drink it?' Koral stepped into the pool of light that came from the captain's desk lamp.

'Sometimes.' Bowman placed the cup on the desk.

'Why?'

'It's tradition. Times like these, you need courage.'

'It gives you courage?'

'No. It just makes you think you have it. Drink enough and you think you've got all the courage in the world.'

'And what if you drink too much?'

'Then it doesn't really matter what you think.'

Koral sat on the edge of the desk. 'And what about the Doctor? What do you think of him?'

'Isn't it obvious? He's a jumped up little nerd who thinks he knows a bit about the Daleks.'

'Perhaps he does.'

Bowman regarded her carefully. 'You reckon?'

'He's not like you. But he does know a lot about the Daleks.'

'How can you tell?'

'Because of the fear in his eyes.'

'Huh.' Bowman reached for the plastic cup and the bottle again.

Koral put a hand on his arm, stopping him from pouring another drink. 'The more you know about the Daleks,' she said, 'The more you learn to fear them.'

Very carefully, the Doctor and his companions lifted the Dalek gun-stick out of its housing. The big black sphere at its base, which provided the weapon with an incredible field of fire, was attached to the interior of the rotating shoulder platform by a number of wires and flexible tubes.

'Hold that steady,' Sota told Scrum. Scrum took the gunstick in his hands and watched the Doctor peer inside the open socket.

'You have to cut the right connections in the right order,' said Conan, aiming his own sonic screwdriver inside and making a number of careful incisions. His voice was barely a whisper. 'It's a bit like defusing a bomb.'

'You've defused bombs before, kid?' asked Cuttin' Edge, looking over his shoulder, bewildered as to how Conan was not acting his age at all.

'Yeah, loads of them.' Conan concentrated on the task at hand for a few more seconds before he managed to pull out the last wires out and the gun came free. Touma carried it over to a workbench – it was heavier than it looked – and set it down carefully.

'You're right to be cautious,' the Doctor told Scrum, wandering over. He was wiping his hands on a rag. 'There's a compressed power reservoir in the ball joint. There's still plenty of shooting to be done with that thing.' He pointed the sonic screwdriver at the base of the gunstick and a shrill whine filled the air. Smoke started to drift out of the gun.

'There.' The Doctor flicked off the screwdriver. 'I've fused the control linkages. No more killing.'

'It was that easy?' queried Cuttin' Edge, looking from the gun-stick to the sonic screwdriver. 'An' that thing looks so dinky.'

'It's not dinky,' retorted the Doctor sharply. He held the screwdriver up, examining it. 'It's not at all dinky!'

'Whatever, it still made short work of that Dalek gun.'

The Doctor's face hardened and he took off his glasses.

'Only because it's disconnected from the Dalek itself. A sonic screwdriver wouldn't touch it otherwise.'

At that moment, Bowman strode in with Koral in tow.

He took one look at the upside-down Dalek, and then glanced at the Doctor and his companions. 'What' are they doing here?'

'They've been helping us,' said Scrum.

Bowman looked sceptical and Touma quickly shook his head. 'Well... we're not really helping as much…'

'Yes, they have,' insisted Scrum, nodding at the gun-stick lying on the workbench. 'Couldn't have done that without them.'

'I'm not helping, and neither are my companions helping,' said the Doctor firmly. 'I just don't want any of you hurt.' He glanced at Bowman. 'Well, most of you.'

Bowman and Koral exchanged a look but said nothing.

Eventually Bowman turned his back on the Doctor and his companions, and addressed Scrum. 'Where are we up to?'

'We're ready. The casing is secured and disarmed. We can transmit a jamming field to interfere with any attempt by the creature inside to activate a self-destruct mechanism.'

'All we gotta do now is open the damn thing up,' said Cuttin' Edge.

Bowman walked slowly around the Dalek. It was completely inert. No movement from the single remaining appendage, no glimmer of light in the luminosity dischargers on its head. 'You're sure it's still alive in there?'

'Only one way to find out,' said Scrum.

'OK,' nodded Bowman. 'Let's get on with it. I've got a few questions I'd like answers to.'

'It won't work,' said the Doctor. He was leaning against the doorway, arms folded. 'Interrogating a Dalek is pointless. It won't give you any information. There's nothing you can do to it that will make it tell you anything.'

Bowman looked at him, raising an eyebrow. 'You ever tried?'

'Not me directly for most of the time, no.' the Doctor shakes his head, sporting a grim expression. 'And many of them ended badly.'

Bowman turned back to Scrum. 'Open it up.'

The Doctor was gesturing his companions to step back, to which the latter complied as they make their way towards the former. Cuttin' Edge powered up his laser and stepped forward, but Koral stepped forward and blocked his way. Puzzled, he switched off the laser.

'I wish to do this. For Stella,' Koral simply said.

'It's OK,' said Bowman. 'Let her.'

Metallic claws sprang out of Koral's fingertips. They glinted, razor-sharp in the electric light. She stepped up to the Dalek and, turning her hand flat like the blade of a knife, pointed her fingertips at the centre of the shoulder section. It was here that the two halves of the weapons platform met, and, below this now that the Dalek was suspended upside down, the sections of the neck. There was an almost invisible join, less than a hair's breadth.

Koral's red eyes narrowed as she concentrated and then, with explosive force, jabbed her fingers into the Dalek.

The claws penetrated the metal with a flash of angry sparks.

There was no response. The Doctor and the companions were both appalled and fascinated. They realised that the claws must be diamond-hard and incredibly sharp, but even so – that kind of effort required immense mental focus and physical power.

Koral inserted her claws in the gap she had made and then suddenly, apparently with little effort, began to pull the two sections apart. At first the metal protested with a hideous grinding noise, but then, with a loud hiss of escaping gas, hydraulic motors opened the Dalek from within. Segments of armour split away, shifting on concealed hinges and slides.

Now the creature inside was visible. Something pale and wet moved like a slug among the exposed machinery, recoiling from the light.

'Get it out,' ordered Bowman.

Scrum and Cuttin' Edge picked up a pair of long metal staves, like boathooks, and approached the Dalek. The Doctor and the companions were only standing by and watched, sporting grimaced expressions. Cuttin' Edge, grimacing in distaste, prodded the mutant creature a couple of times.

The creature shrank back in its housing, but there was no escape. Scrum, his hands shaking, crouched low and inserted the end of his stave as well, trying to gain some kind of leverage.

And then, gradually, the creature began to emerge as they gouged it free like an oyster from its shell. It was accompanied by a foul stench, a smell of pure wrongness, of something rotten sealed away for too long.

Instinctively, both Scrum and Cuttin' Edge backed away. Whether this was due to fear, or a strange kind of respect for their captive, it was impossible to tell. Cuttin' Edge dropped the stave and drew his blaster, a look of utter revulsion on his dark, sweating features.

Koral watched carefully, cautiously, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Bowman simply stood, arms folded, his face impassive.

The Dalek oozed slowly out of its cradle, leaving a thick film of mucus behind. There was a long, obscene sucking noise and then, all in a rush, the rest of the creature emerged. It plopped out in a tangle of slippery tentacles, some over a metre in length. It didn't fall onto the floor. Something caught inside the machine and the Dalek hung there, dripping slime, swaying from side to side. One of the tentacles reached down to the floor and rested there, unmoving.

The companions couldn't help but look at the thing that was right in front of them with curiosity, tinge in subtle dread. A creature, twisted to its core, such a small figure capable of great destruction. The old phrase 'Size does not matter.' really does seem to validated when it comes to this kind of monster.

'Is it dead?' Bowman asked.

'Damn waste of time,' muttered Cuttin' Edge, lowering his blaster.

'Wait,' breathed the Doctor quietly. 'Look…'

He was pointing at the centre of the beast. In among the dangling appendages and wires still connecting the flesh to the armoured machine, there was an eye.

And it was opening.

The eye was yellow and bloodshot with a single black pupil.

No one said a word. The cargo chamber felt hot and claustrophobic now, more like a prison cell than a ship's hold. There was a genuine feeling that they were all witnessing something extraordinary.

The eye twitched, as if gaining some kind of focus, and began to move slightly in its socket.

'Dude,' said Cuttin' Edge, 'you are one ugly critter.'

'Be quiet,' said the Doctor sharply. 'I don't suppose you're the number one poster boy on Skaro yourself.'

'No, I guess that would be you,' said Cuttin' Edge.

'Only if they're "wanted" posters.' the Doctor side commented.

'Shut up, the pair of you,' said Bowman. He stepped forward and looked down at the mutant. 'Can you hear me?'

There was a faint, gurgling reply. Bizarrely, the lights on the Dalek's dome flashed weakly.

'It's still connected,' Scrum realised, peering more closely at the nest of wires and tubes leading from the mutant's quivering flesh into the interior of the Dalek.

'Get back!' cried Touma, pulling Scrum to one side.

As he moved, the black suction cup on the end of the Dalek's immobilised arm suddenly flexed as if trying to grab hold of Scrum's head.

'Whoa!' Cuttin' Edge cocked his blaster and aimed it at the creature's blinking eye. 'Steady on there, boy.'

The sucker continued to grasp at thin air. The arm juddered in the vice-like grip of the cargo loader, and the Dalek let out a long, low groan of despair.

'You got it, dude,' said Cuttin' Edge. 'We got you by the—'

'That's enough,' growled Bowman. He turned back to the Dalek. 'You're on board the Wayfarer. I'm Captain Jon Bowman and this is my crew. You're our prisoner.'

'Somehow, I think it's worked that part out,' muttered Kyon.

'You were one of a squad of Daleks on the planet Hurala,' Bowman continued, addressing the dangling mutant. 'What were you doing there?'

'It won't answer,' said the Doctor, shaking his head, recalling his previous experiences, knowing to himself on how truly stubborn the Daleks could be.

Bowman smiled thinly. 'We'll see. Hey. Dalek. I know you can hear me. And I know you can understand me.' Bowman lowered himself to his haunches, so that he was eye-level with his prisoner.

'Now we're all humanoids here and we can be reasonable. It's your choice. Talk to us, tell us what we want to know, and things will be easier for you. If you don't cooperate – well, let's just say it won't be so easy. I don't want things getting ugly in here, but if they do… then so be it.'

The Dalek's single eye glared at Bowman with a fierce, palpable hatred. But it said nothing.

'That your final answer?'

The eye closed.

'Right,' said Bowman, standing up. 'You got that equipment I asked for, Scrum?'

Scrum wheeled a small instrument trolley forward. Laid across the tray were a number of tools.

'You can't be serious,' said the Doctor, sporting a grimaced expression, seeing the tools that would no doubt be used for 'interrogation'.

'You know I am,' said Bowman bleakly.

'(Sigh). I suppose you are.' The Doctor sighed sadly.

In cases like this, the Doctor would be firmly against this, arguing upon his principles on the value of humanity. But this case is an unfortunate special one.

The Daleks don't care about such precious commodity. They don't even understand it. They just want to eradicate it. And they'll do anything and everything to achieve that aim. They'll stop at nothing to destroy them. He'd seen it happen, so many countless times, in the endless repeatable hellish battlefields, in a nightmare that he'd rather forget.

The companions themselves were having similar grimaced thoughts, not truly wanting to take part at this kind of cruelty. They could only look away in guilt and shame, not liking the fact that they were essentially doing the equivalent of washing their hands clean.

Bowman picked up one of the tools from the tray and switched it on. A crackle of energy leapt from the business end. 'This one Dalek could tell me all I need to know. Now you can either stay in here and watch, or step outside if you've not got the stomach for it.'

'Bowman.'

Bowman turned back towards the Doctor who was sporting a solemn grim expression, whose figure almost towers him in a way that he could not possibly understand.

'Before you do this, I have to warn you. This action that you would be undertaking would compromise your very own humanity. If that were to happen, then the Dalek has already won before you've even started. I hope you know that well.'

For a second, Bowman looked doubtful. He stared at the tip of the energy discharger, frowning. Eventually he said, 'I'm sorry, Doctor. I cannot afford the luxury of humanity right now.'

The Doctor could only lower his head, sporting a sad expression. 'I suppose so.' He turns towards his companions. 'Come on everyone, let's head outside.'

The companions complied immediately as they and the Doctor begin to take their leave. As they took went near the door, they turned back to see the Dalek creature. There was a slight gurgle, no more than a cough, and the dome lights sparked once. It could have been a nerve twitching, or an attempt at thanks, or even an insult. It could have been anything. Tight-lipped in grimace, they stepped out of the room and the door hissed shut behind them.

The door to the cargo bay remained open. Inside it was dark, except for a dull red glow from the emergency lights. The Doctor guessed that Bowman's power discharger had fused the illumination circuits at some point. Now the interior of the hold looked like a little pocket of Hell.

Ignoring the stench, the Doctor and the companion stepped inside.

The remains of the Dalek lay on the floor beneath the upended casing. It was quite small – the distended brain sac lying like a rotten melon in a pool of dark unguent. Some of its squid-like arms were coiled around the carcass, while others lay on the floor like dead worms, severed from the main body.

There were many more wires and cables dangling from the Dalek casing, evidence of how Scrum and Cuttin' Edge must have had to scrape the creature out of its shell. Strings of glistening slime hung down like the drool of some strange metal beast that had recently vomited the half-digested contents of its stomach onto the floor.

The companions were simply staring at the purplish blob-like creature lying on the ground before them, dimly illuminated by the red glow of what they assumed were the room's emergency lights. What it had once been now only looked like a brain that was lying on the ground in a manner that reminded them unnervingly of a rotted melon, squid-like arms lying both curled around the creature and spread out like dead worms, all kinds of wires and cables hanging out of casing behind the creature.

No matter how much they tried, they were never able to bring themselves to completely think of what they saw as having once been a complete organism; it was like...

The best description they can come up with is that a part of them was trying to deny, even though based on their own experiences, they're not surprised at the very least, with one of them experiencing far worst things due to countless loops between scripts, that humanity had reached this point. They was a part of them that was entertaining the possibility that they could excuse it to a point as them acting on their new instincts to eliminate a clear threat, but the idea that humans could reach a point where we would do this to a living creature had scared them far more due to what the implications would entail on such consequences.

This trip had went from bad to worse. They saw an entire planet being destroyed by the 'Osterhagen Principle' - a planetary self-destruct that they didn't want to think about if they were to be honest, knowing how it was invented in the modern era of the Whoniverse Prime N-Space Verse was more than enough for them. Then there was the fact that the Daleks had some other plan going on at the moment. They were starting to feel sick to the core. The sheer scale of what they were dealing with was just...terrifying to see and behold with their own eyes. Seeing through images and projections was one thing. Experiencing it first hand is another thing entirely. And these were simply the Daleks of the Second Dalek War, not the actual multiverse clusters busting Time War Dalek Empire that was one of the dreaded members of the Axis Powers.

They understood why the Doctor, their teachers of the 12 Core, their other second brothers, and many others had wanted to point it and hammer it out to them and to the rest of their fellow companions and honorary companions on why the Daleks are the significant type of threat that should be taken absolutely seriously. It was because of the destruction of this scale and magnitude.

They and their second father might have helped the crew to disable as much of the Dalek's weapons and defences as they could, but after everything they heard about the Daleks from the Doctor, they'd feel like that they would just run out of the room even before Koral had 'opened' the casing, and the subsequent screams they'd heard as they did...whatever...to it hadn't left them feeling very comfortable.

The Doctor knelt down carefully by the dead creature. It was difficult to see anything clearly in the red emergency lighting, but there was something that made him want to check. You could never trust a Dalek, even in death.

And, just fractionally, the single eye twitched.

'You're still alive,' breathed the Doctor. His voice was no more than an awed whisper, one that made the companions almost automatically crouched beside him, staring incredulously and with the dread.

The eye slowly closed.

'Oh, come on,' the Doctor said, looking at the creature with an almost critical manner. 'You can't fool me.'

For a moment, they almost sincerely hoped that the Doctor was wrong - the concept of anything looking like that and still being alive seemed almost more wrong than the torture, but then the creature's single bulbous eye appeared to move slightly to look in his direction, and they knew that he was unfortunately correct.

'It's me,' the Doctor said. 'The Oncoming Storm.'

The Dalek's eye opened wider, the creature letting out a faint sickening gurgle as it studied him.

'Or maybe you just know me as the Doctor,' said the Doctor.

The creature's only response was another vague mutter whose tone and content were impossible to make out, although a faint gleam in its eye didn't make me feel any better.

'That's the trouble with jumping the time tracks,' The Doctor said, explaining to his companions as he was sitting down on the floor as he looked at the Dalek. 'It's difficult to work out where we're up to. Dalek history was confusing enough even before the Time War.'

'DOC...TOR...' the creature said, its voice a low gurgle of the voice it had possessed in its casing, the hair on the back of their necks begins to stand up from the disturbing tone of the voice. The companions themselves stared in horror and disgust at the twisted sight that was before them.

'Yes?' the Doctor said after a pause.

'ONLY... AT... THE END... DO YOU COME...' the Dalek said, its voice quivering from the apparent effort. 'TO GLOAT.'

'No,' the Doctor said, shaking his head. 'No, I'm not gloating.'

"THEN... KILL... ME..."

"I can't," the Doctor said.

Even after all of these years, a part of them couldn't help but wonder how any part of their second father could make him not want to kill the thing before them. They had always admired their second father's resolve, even after everything that the Daleks had done to him and to everyone else, making that kind of choice couldn't have been easy.

'COWARD,' was all that the Dalek had to say to that to which made the companions glare at it immediately due to that uncalled for insult.

'There's no need to fight me,' the Doctor said.

'THEN... WHY HAVE YOU COME?' the Dalek asked.

'I'm not here for that,' the Doctor said, shaking his head in an almost pitying manner as he looked at the hideous creature before us. 'You're finished. Even you must admit that.'

'DALEKS... NEVER... CAPITULATE...'

'That's your problem,' the Doctor said, sighing as he leant back against the wall, shaking his head in exasperation. 'There's no reasoning with you. You've all got one-track minds. I bet if you could fire your gun now you'd exterminate me and everyone on the spot.'

'YES!'

'You're serious?' Touma said, unable to restrain his incredulity as he looked at the mess of flesh and pulp that had once been a living being. "Killing the Doctor won't get you anything; if you just tried asking for some mercy yhen maybe people would give it to you-!"

'DALEKS DO NOT PLEAD,' was all that the creature had to say to his effort of reason.

"I know," the Doctor said grimly, holding out an arm to push Touma back slightly so that the Dalek was focused on him once more. 'But you could have saved yourself a lot of bother if you'd spoken up sooner. Bowman only wanted to talk.'

'BOWMAN...?'

'The man who was...interrogating you,' the Doctor said, clearly trying to avoid actually saying the word 'torture' due to the obvious implications of the word on its own even without the sight before them.

'HE FAILED,' The Dalek said, a hint of triumph in its voice as it spoke. 'I SHOULD NOT...HAVE ALLOWED MYSELF...TO BE CAPTURED. BUT HIS FAILURE...WAS THE GREATER. NO MATTER WHAT HE DID TO ME...I WOULD NOT TALK.'

'That's honestly what I said to him. Very impressive, I'm sure,' the Doctor said disdainfully.

'HUMANS DO NOT UNDERSTAND TORTURE.'

'Oh, I think they do,' The Doctor said, looking over apologetically at every one of his second sons as he spoke, as though he wanted to make sure that they knew that he wasn't talking about them or to anyone that they knew when he said this, to which they wholeheartedly agree as they knew that humanity can be capable of great things, but also of cruel and terrible things. 'It's not one of their more endearing traits, but they do know how to inflict pain and suffering, I'll give you that.'

'I EXPECTED NOTHING LESS.'

'No,' the Doctor said, shifting slightly as he spoke, as though his personal discomfort about this topic was extending to physical discomfort as well. 'That's just wrong. Humans are capable of love and mercy as well. And generosity and charity too. There is no limit to the good they can do or that they are capable of doing good.'

Despite the uncertainty of their situation, the fact that the Doctor was able to say that about humanity, even with the evidence of how he could be wrong, did a lot to make them feel better about their own humanity, which is all the more reason that they need to never change who they are, trying their very best to become the best possible version of humanity they could truly be, whether ordinary or extraordinary.

'Not like you,' the Doctor continued, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at the Dalek. 'All you know is pain and suffering.'

'AND THAT IS WHY WE WILL SUCCEED,'the Dalek said simply. 'WE UNDERSTAND PAIN. HUMANS DO NOT.'

Looking at the twisted Dalek casing that they had seen earlier, and recallin everything regarding the Daleks in particular, their entire race, mutated by a prolonged thousand year war, left with no other apparent choice but to literally connect themselves into that 'travel machine' to get around, they couldn't help but think for a moment that it had some valid point. Anything that could endure something like that definitely had a point about it understanding pain better than them.

'BUT THE HUMAN RACE WILL BE DEFEATED,' the Dalek continued. "ALL HUMANS WILL CEASE TO EXIST. THE DALEKS WILL ERADICATE THEM FROM THE MULTIVERSE!"

'Never,' the Doctor said in response, with such cold certainty that the companions would have believed him and still do even if they didn't know that they were in his own past right now. But the Dalek's declaration that humanity throughout the multiverse will be eradicated still gave them shivers running down their spines as that boast was a dark foreshadowing of the Last Great Time War considering the timeframe they were truly in.

'THE DALEKS WILL TRIUMPH! THERE IS NOTHING THAT CAN STOP US FROM CHANGING THE PATH OF HISTORY- NOT EVEN YOU, DOC-TOR!'

"You're delirious," the Doctor responded, scorn clear in his tone.

'THE DALEKS WILL CONQUER AND DESTROY,' the Dalek said; despite the fact that it still looked like something that a larger animal had thrown up or at least partly chewed, it actually sounded stronger now than it had done earlier. 'WE WILL ELIMINATE ALL HUMAN LIFE FROM ITS VERY BEGINNINGS! WE WILL CONQUER TIME AND SPACE! THE FUTURE WILL BELONG TO THE DALEKS!'

'Oh yeah?' the Doctor said, leaning over to glare angrily at the Dalek, his patience with the creature lost. 'Well, get this: I've seen the future. You lot are going to end up so hungry and mad for power that you bite off more than you can chew. And the whole conquest of time and space is going to blow up in your faces.'

As he continued speaking, he moved in so close to the lump of flesh in front of him. 'You're all going to burn and no matter how much you try to come back, or which of you remain, I'm always gonna be there to stop you. So just remember; there's a storm coming!'

For a moment, The Dalek seemed to shrink back slightly at The Doctor's words, but any retreat it made was only a brief one as it quickly regained its composure.

'YOU THREATEN ME WHEN I CANNOT FIGHT BACK,' the thing said with a perverted satisfaction in its tone. 'YOU HAVE ONLY COME TO WATCH ME DIE. BUT THE DALEKS WILL TRIUMPH! THE DALEKS WILL ALWAYS SURVIVE! WE WILL BE MASTERS OF THE MULTIVERSE!'

As though that was all that it had the strength to say, the creature groaned, convulsed in a disturbing manner, and then seemed to deflate like a balloon that had lost all its air, the eye closing as it fell into silence at last.

'My god…' Lelouch whispered in dread, as he and his fellow companions were extremely taking note of the Dalek's final words in fear and dread as they had just heard another dark foreshadowing of the Last Great Time War considering the timeframe they were in right about now.

They weren't really sure what term could be used to effectively describe the sheer disgust that they felt at the sight before them. The Dalek's speech about its superiority may not exactly have done much to endear it to them, but that didn't mean that they liked to think about what it must have gone through physically before its demise.

'Of course!' the Doctor suddenly yelled, leaping to his feet and smacking his forehead with his hand. 'That's what they were doing on Hurala!'

'What?' They all asked, looking at him in confusion as Kyon continued the question. "That's what who were doing on Hurala?"

'The Daleks!' the Doctor explained, looking urgently at them. 'They couldn't have known that we were there. TARDISes were shielded from Dalek sensors long ago; they'd never find the old girl unless they were actively looking for her, and even then it would take every one of their ships to just get through the defenses and figure out where I was, so the only reason they were at Hurala was to raid its databanks!'

'Uh...Doctor, you're not making any sense,' Sota said, hoping that the man could further explain what did he mean by that. 'What could Hurala have that the Daleks would want? I mean...well, it was a dump...'

'Oh, it's a dump now, but the Lodestar station on Hurala was 'the gateway to the stars' in its heyday; what it didn't have about the various planets in the area wasn't worth knowing,' The Doctor said, his tone momentarily dismissive before his expression became more urgent. 'And one of those worlds that would have been in its databanks was Arkheon.'

'Arkheon?' Conan asked in interest, recalling the conversation between the Doctor and Stella as they mentioned a couple of planets, with Arkeon being mentioned.

'Located near the Crab Nebula, just past the Pleiades and left at the Blue Star Worlds, but that's not important right now,' the Doctor answered, waving a hand dismissively as he looked intently at them. 'What is important is that it's the home of the Arkheon Threshold, an interesting little temporal rift that gave it a reputation as the 'Planet of Ghosts'. In that planet, there's a small chronic schism at the heart of the planet, creating a tear in time and space; if the Daleks managed to find that threshold, their science and engineering, combined with their thirst for power and conquest and the untapped potential of a space-time anomaly could give them a foothold in time that they can use to destroy humanity.'

For a moment, they could only stare silently at the man before them, hoping that he'd inform them that he'd just been joking, even though they knew in their gut that he wasn't. The concept of being stuck in the past before the Time War was bad enough, but the idea of them having to deal with a plot to destroy the human race itself...

'Is that...possible' Sota asked, looking apprehensively at him after he'd shown no signs of changing his explanation. "I mean, destroying humanity...because they never really succeeded in doing that"

'History can change, Sota. You know that,' the Doctor said grimly. 'We have to ensure that it doesn't change the way the Daleks want it to.'

They all didn't even bother arguing on that logic. After everything that they had seen of them so far, and after the Doctor's last 'conversation' with that Dalek, there was no way that anything they wanted could be a good thing. They knew that they couldn't let the Daleks win for if they succeed here and now, then the humanity of not just this universe but of this entire multiverse cluster would be wiped out thereby derailing history which in turn could make the Time War come in advance which makes the shifting probabilities become even more hard to predict.

This was a crisis event. And this was a crisis that was now very personal to the five members of Team TARDIS.

They can't let the Daleks win. They will fight. Or die trying.

As the companions stared over the edge of the massive cliff- even though they knew that it was just the edge of the planet that they had seen earlier, shattered in half by the explosion of Dalek weapons- before them, the Wayfarer some distance away in the remnants of the Arkheon city they'd landed in and the rest of the crew anxiously looking at the mutants behind them while the Doctor studied his sonic screwdriver, leaving them with nothing more to do than look at what we had come all this way to find, They couldn't almost believe what I was seeing.

Almost.

They were standing on the edge of what could only be called a massive cliff, and, at the bottom, was the core of a planet...

Even when they knew what had been done to the planet to give us this view- the thought that a Dalek weapon could cause this damage just added to the list of reasons why they begin to understand truthfully on why nobody could like them-, that didn't stop Koral's description of it being accurate; it might be terrible, but it was also still... beautiful...

They wouldn't go so far as to say that seeing this almost made the possibility that they were going to be torn apart by the mutants behind them was worth it- the only other possibly redeeming factor about this whole situation was that those creatures had proved one thing.

Just because something was alive does not mean that they have a soul, for the Daleks clearly lost their souls after the Daleks had no hesitation to decimate Arkheon, but they could not really deny that it was definitely impressive-

"Oh no," the Doctor said, in a straightforward tone that showed only uncertainty rather than the excitement that they had almost come to expect him to demonstrate when faced with something this new.

"What is it?" Touma asked. "What's the matter?"

"A thought has just occurred to me," the Doctor said, his tone a bleak one with a hint of anger to it that didn't make me feel particularly comfortable. "Why didn't I think of it before?"

"What?," Scrum repeated.

"The planetary core!," the Doctor answered, indicating the massive golden orb-thing below us before he smacked himself on the forehead. "D'oh!"

"I don't understand..." Koral asked, frowning at the Time Lord.

"I think things are about to get a lot worse," the Doctor sighed.

"Worse?" Cuttin' Edge repeated scornfully. "We're trapped on the edge of the biggest cliff in the universe, facin' an army of zombie ghosts from hell. What could be worse?"

For a moment, the Doctor said nothing, but then he looked at his companions directly, his eyes full of anguish and his expression more chilling than anything than they had ever seen on him.

"I'm sorry," he said to them. "I'm so sorry..."

They knew what the Doctor meant as they realized what was about to happen as they gave him a look of sympathy of their own.

And then, behind them, rising up beyond the cliff edge, seemingly borne aloft on the flickering curtain of snow, they came: metallic bronze shapes, bristling with arms and weaponry which wavered and twitched like insect antennae.

Eyestalks swivelled, fixing on the Doctor and his little party as they cowered on the edge of the cliff.

Implacable, glowing blue eyes stared down at them.

'HALT!' screeched the nearest Dalek, its dome lights flickering in triumph. 'DO NOT MOVE – OR YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!'

There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. They just stood and stared helplessly as the Daleks floated towards them.

'YOU ARE NOW PRISONERS OF THE DALEKS!'

The Daleks slowly descended until they were skimming the surface of the escarpment.

The native mutants of Arkheon immediately scattered, turning and running for cover or slipping down boltholes, their thin rags snaking after them as they disappeared from sight. Within moments, there was no sign that they had ever existed – ghosts in every sense.

'RESIST AND YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED,' grated the first Dalek. It glided over to where the Wayfarer crew stood huddled together. The eyestalk roved up and down, examining them contemptuously.

'YOU ARE OUR PRISONERS,' the Dalek repeated loudly. 'YOU WILL OBEY THE DALEKS!'

Bowman was gripping his blaster so hard his knuckles were bone-white. He was a fraction of a second from opening fire when the Doctor said, 'Leave it. Try anything stupid and you'll be exterminated on the spot.'

'Then what do we do?' hissed Cuttin' Edge, his voice cracking with anger and fear. He, too, was a single jittery moment away from bringing his rifle to bear.

The Doctor simply raised his hands. 'Surrender.'

There was a tense moment, but neither The Companions nor Bowman nor Cuttin' Edge moved.

The Dalek swivelled to address the Doctor. 'ARE YOU THE LEADER OF THIS GROUP?'

'No, he isn't,' said Bowman. 'I am.'

The Dalek's dome turned, the eye focusing on Bowman. His face reflected the blue glow like stone.

'DISCARD YOUR WEAPONS,' it ordered.

Nobody moved.

'IMMEDIATELY!' screeched the Dalek. 'OBEY!'

'Do it,' said Bowman, after a pause.

He let go of his blaster and it dropped to the ground at his feet. Cuttin' Edge threw down his rifle. Scrum dropped his handgun.

'I'm not carrying any weapons,' said the Doctor. 'And neither are they.' He indicated Koral and The Companions with a nod of his head.

A Dalek moved forward, extending its sucker arm. It scanned The Doctor, Koral, and The Companions briefly. 'NO ENERGY OR PROJECTILE WEAPONS DETECTED.'

'Told you,' said the Doctor quietly.

'SILENCE!' barked the Dalek. It turned its head towards another pair of Daleks. 'DESTROY THE WEAPONS.'

The Daleks glided forward, their gun-sticks swiveling to point at the blasters lying in the dirt. There was a bright flare and the discarded weaponry was melted into slag.

Koral was trembling violently. The Doctor could sense that she was about to run or attack. And knowing Koral, he guessed it would probably be the latter. Either action would result in death.

Bowman had sensed it too. He reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder. 'Easy.'

Koral turned to look at him, her eyes blazing. Bowman simply nodded. He understood. 'You're the last of the Red Sky Lost,' he said gently. His voice sounded like the purr of a tiger. 'You've got to stay alive.'

Scrum, also, was visibly shaking. But this was due to simple terror. He had one hand clamped over his mouth, as if trying to stop himself from being sick. Cuttin' Edge nudged him with his elbow. 'Dude. Chill out.' Scrum nodded but kept his hand on his mouth. His eyes were so wide they were almost circles.

'WALK THIS WAY,' grated the lead Dalek, turning towards the cliff edge.

'I couldn't walk that way if I tried,' muttered The Doctor under his breath. 'At least, not without castors…'

The Dalek's dome swivelled right round, the eyestalk glaring at him.

'Nothing,' the Doctor said, innocently.

'WALK IN FRONT OF ME,' the Dalek said, gliding round to position itself behind the group. 'MOVE! DISOBEDIENCE WILL RESULT IN INSTANT EXTERMINATION.'

'Come on,' said The Doctor, adopting as jaunty a tone as he could manage. He stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and sauntered towards the cliff edge, whispering into Scrum's ear as he passed. 'Stick with me. I'll handle this.'

Scrum looked uncertainly at him. 'Really?'

The Doctor raised his eyebrows and pulled an of course! face. 'I've done this loads of times,' he said.

So Scrum stuck with him, walking stiffly towards the cliff edge, the direction in which the Daleks were herding them. When they reached the precipice, they stopped.

The Companions, Bowman, Koral and Cuttin' Edge joined them. No one wanted to go too near to the abyss.

'What they gonna do?' asked Cuttin' Edge. 'Throw us off?'

But a heavy whine of machinery was already filling the air as a large, flat metal surface suddenly rose up adjacent to the cliff top. There were two Daleks on the platform, one of them positioned next to a small control podium. It made an adjustment with its sucker and the platform moved closer to the edge, hovering on antigravity thrusters.

'A lift!' exclaimed the Doctor. 'That's handy. Come on, everybody, hop on.'

He led the way, springing lightly onto the metal platform. It bobbed fractionally under his weight, like a raft floating on a pond. There was room for a dozen or so, but the other Daleks simply floated off the cliff top alongside the platform.

'Looks like we were expected,' Bowman remarked.

'Yeah,' nodded the Doctor. He took a deep breath.

'Gravity, atmosphere, the lot. They're giving us the VIP treatment.' He looked carefully at Bowman. 'Why d'you think that is?'

Bowman shrugged but did not reply.

The platform started to descend. Eventually they couldn't even see the top of the cliff, it just rose up like a vast, dark wall, blotting out half of space. The Doctor wandered over to the edge of the platform and peeked over. Below, the exposed centre of Arkheon broiled and spat like a cauldron of fire. 'Y'know,' he said conversationally to the Dalek at the controls, 'that really is an incredible view. Absolutely amazing. Pity you lot had to come and spoil it.'

The Dalek said nothing. The platform continued to descend.

'So, what's it all for, then?' the Doctor asked. 'Let me guess. You're gonna replace the molten core with a drive system, start flying the planet around the galaxy? See the sights?'

'SILENCE!' grated the Dalek.

'I'm only trying to make conversation,' the Doctor retorted, sounding hurt. He waited for a response but there was nothing.

The platform cleared the upper edge of an enormous cavern. The solid wall of the planetary magma had suddenly given way to a vast hollow in the rock. Whether it was a natural chasm or deliberately excavated it was impossible to tell, but there was enough room for several spacecraft hangars. The platform veered into the cavern, moving slowly inside the planet itself. Below them was an immense, metallic web of criss-crossing walkways and landing areas. There were Daleks gliding along the walkways, across platforms, through corridors. On one level there were serried ranks of Daleks, all moving in unison, disappearing into a deeper, darker cavern.

'Hell and damnation,' breathed Cuttin' Edge. He had never in his life seen so many Daleks in one place. 'Now we're really in the—'

'Should have seen this coming,' interrupted the Doctor.

There was no attempt at a casual demeanour now. 'I really should.'

'What do you mean, Doctor?' asked Sota.

'They've been here all the time,' the Doctor said. The expression on his face was dark, rueful. 'Look at this place! It must have taken years to build and develop a base like this. We thought the Daleks were searching for Arkheon. Turns out they found it ages ago and moved in.'

'Somehow, I'm beginning to think it's worse than that,' said Lelouch.

Cuttin' Edge let out a hiss of frustration. 'Will you guys stop sayin' that? "It's worse than that" and "It's worse than I thought"! Hell! How much worse is this gonna get?'

'A lot,' said Bowman. 'I think I know what this place is. I heard rumours. The Daleks had a top-secret base where they took all their high-level prisoners for interrogation and experimentation.'

'No way,' Cuttin' Edge spat out in disbelief.

'Interrogation? Experimentation? Are you serious?'

'Daleks love prisoners,' The Doctor said. 'Gives them such a sense of power. They love nothing more than lording it over the inferior species. Humiliation, torment, slavery. That's their thing.'

Cuttin' Edge shook his head. 'You ain't makin' it sound any better, dude.'

Lelouch turned to Bowman. 'This top-secret interrogation base. Is there anything else you can remember about it?'

'Why?' Bowman's tone was bleak. His face was retreating into its stone-like appearance as he prepared himself for what lay ahead.

'Anything could be useful.'

'Don't count on it, kid. They used to call it "the Black Hole" – as in nothing ever came out again. No one – and I mean no one – ever escaped from this place. It's a oneway ticket.'

'CEASE TALKING!' One of the Daleks moved towards them, gun and arm twitching eagerly. 'PRISONERS WILL BE SILENT.'

No one spoke again as the platform continued its descent into the Dalek prison. Whenever they passed more Daleks, eyestalks would slowly turn, domes swivelling, observing. It was as if every Dalek that saw them was minutely examining them, glaring at them with a mixture of hatred and resentment and, perhaps, just a hint of curiosity. The prisoners huddled together, Koral moving closer to Bowman so that he could put a hand on her shoulder.

Presently the platform lowered itself into a wide reception area. Daleks glided to and fro, watching them carefully. Two Daleks came forward to meet the platform.

'STEP OFF THE LANDING PLATFORM,' grated the first.

Slowly the prisoners filed onto the metal floor. The Dalek on the platform prodded Cuttin' Edge in the back with its sucker arm, pushing him forward so that he stumbled. 'MOVE! FASTER! OBEY THE DALEKS!'

Cuttin' Edge glared back. 'Don't push me, you metal creep.'

The Dalek floated forward, the bulbous blue eye fixed on the human. 'BE SILENT!'

Cuttin' Edge stared back, his face reflecting the light. 'Don't wave that eyestalk in my face, creep. I can get good money for that back home.'

'BE SILENT OR YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!'

'All right, cool it,' said Bowman. 'That's enough, Cuttin' Edge. Let's not rile them. It's too easy.'

With a snort, Cuttin' Edge turned away. 'Whatever you say, skip.'

The Dalek circled slowly around Cuttin' Edge, examining him from every angle. 'YOU WILL OBEY THE DALEKS. FROM NOW ON YOU WILL TAKE ORDERS ONLY FROM DALEKS. THIS HUMAN IS NO LONGER YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER.'

'He never was my commanding officer,' shrugged Cuttin' Edge. 'He's just a guy I kinda like.'

The Doctor and The Companions, keeping very much to the background, watched the exchange carefully. They didn't know whether to wince or cheer out loud. But Cuttin' Edge was playing a dangerous game; the line between defiance and suicide was a very thin one when baiting Daleks.

This particular Dalek had already reached screeching level. 'OBEY THE DALEKS! YOU WILL OBEY!'

'Just remember,' Cuttin' Edge said coolly, 'that eyestalk's mine.'

'BE SILENT!' The Dalek's sucker arm suddenly extended and grasped Cuttin' Edge's chest. The black cup gripped and squeezed and Cuttin' Edge howled. Then the Dalek released him and he fell to the floor, gasping for breath and rubbing his chest.

Kyon helped him to his feet. 'You're going to get yourself killed!'

'THE NEXT PERSON TO SPEAK WITHOUT PERMISSION WILL BE EXTERMINATED,' grated one of the other Daleks. 'NOW REMOVE YOUR OUTER GARMENTS.'

Slowly the prisoners unfastened their heavy winter jackets and dropped them on the floor. Cuttin' Edge's bravado may have been inspirational, but he had very nearly paid for it with his life. The Doctor was trying to keep a low profile and merge in with the group, keeping his head down. But Koral had already seen enough. She was looking at him curiously, but The Doctor pretended not to notice and stared down at his canvas trainers.

Two Daleks approached the group, sucker arms extended. 'PRISONERS WILL BE SCANNED AND CATEGORISED,' said one. 'STAND APART! MOVE!'

The little group shuffled around until they were all separate and in a line. First to be scanned was Scrum. The suckers roved all over him, emitting strange electronic warbling noises. 'SPECIES – HUMAN.' The Dalek spoke the word as if it tasted foul. 'MALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL FIVE POINT NINE. MARGINAL USE.'

'Marginal?' echoed Scrum, affronted.

The Daleks scanned Cuttin' Edge. 'SPECIES – HUMAN. MALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL SEVEN POINT FIVE. SUITABLE. YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE MINE TO WORK FOR THE DALEKS.'

As The Daleks turned to study The Companions, they couldn't help but wince for they thought that most of them were reasonably physically fit, but the possibility that one of their own could just be... discarded because they didn't meet the standards of a race who already had a low opinion of anything that wasn't them...

The Daleks then scanned Touma. 'SPECIES – HUMAN. MALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL SEVEN POINT THREE. SUITABLE. YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE MINE TO WORK FOR THE DALEKS.'

The Daleks then scanned Conan. 'SPECIES – HUMAN. MALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL SEVEN POINT ONE. SUITABLE. YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE MINE TO WORK FOR THE DALEKS.'

The Daleks then scanned Kyon. 'SPECIES – HUMAN. MALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL SEVEN POINT THREE. SUITABLE. YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE MINE TO WORK FOR THE DALEKS.'

The Daleks then scanned Sota. 'SPECIES – HUMAN. MALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL SEVEN POINT THREE. SUITABLE. YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE MINE TO WORK FOR THE DALEKS.'

The Daleks then scanned Lelouch. 'SPECIES – HUMAN. MALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL SEVEN POINT THREE. SUITABLE. YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE MINE TO WORK FOR THE DALEKS.'

It was one of those moments where they weren't sure if they should be relieved or scared about the fact that they were still alive; they might not want to die, but after everything that they had heard and witness about The Daleks, any reason they wanted people alive couldn't be good for the long run.

The Daleks then moved on to Koral, who was standing next to Bowman.

'SPECIES – UNKNOWN,' announced one of the Daleks. 'FEMALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL NINE POINT FOUR. SUITABLE. YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE MINE TO WORK FOR THE DALEKS.'

Koral looked fearfully at Bowman. He reached out and squeezed her hand gently; and it was easy for Koral to see the relief in his eyes – relief that she hadn't been declared too dangerous and killed on the spot.

The Daleks moved on, scanning Bowman next. He stood straight, shoulders back, chin up, almost as if he was back on the parade ground.

'SPECIES – HUMAN. MALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL SEVEN POINT SIX. WAIT!'

Something had attracted the Dalek's attention. 'EXTEND YOUR ARM.'

After a brief pause, Bowman thrust out his left arm. The Dalek's eye focused on the small white scar

running down his forearm. 'EVIDENCE OF SUBCUTANEOUS TRANSMITTER REMOVAL!'

Another Dalek moved forward, its blue eye zeroing in on the scar. 'X-RAY CONFIRMS TRANSMITTER HAS BEEN REMOVED.'

"Transmitter." Lelouch thought to himself with his eyes narrowed as to why was that in Commander Bowman's person.

'Transmitter?' Scrum whispered. 'What transmitter?'

'Hell, I dunno, pal,' Cuttin' Edge whispered back. 'But Bowman don't look happy.' Bowman glared stonily at The Dalek and lowered his arm. 'Guess it's your lucky day,' he growled.

'What's going on?' Scrum wanted to know. Like the others, he could sense something was up, and his curiosity – kindled by panic – was enough to make him forget the orders not to speak.

But The Daleks were too preoccupied with Bowman to notice. 'STEP FORWARD! KNEEL!'

'I'm not kneeling for you,' Bowman replied simply.

The Dalek behind Bowman simply thrust out its sucker arm, aiming for the back of Bowman's left knee. His leg folded and Bowman hit the metal floor with a grunt.

Koral started forward, clearly alarmed. But The Doctor reached out and took her arm, shaking his head fractionally. She looked at him in despair.

'INITIATE BRAIN SCAN!' Two Daleks extended their suckers, closing them around Bowman's head. There was a shrill, piercing whine and Bowman gasped loudly, flecks of saliva jumping from his lips.

'Leave him alone!' yelled Scrum, moving forward, but Cuttin' Edge grabbed him and pulled him back.

Touma was about to move forward as well but Lelouch stops him before he can do something drastic. "Touma, wait! I don't think The Daleks plan on killing him just yet. So you may need to slow down on your heroics just a bit. Remember, Imagine Breaker doesn't work on Daleks."

Touma looked back at Lelouch with a look of trust and nodded at him as he decided to wait as his friend suggested.

The Doctor, too, had to grab hold of Koral again to prevent her from physically attacking the Daleks. 'Don't' be stupid!' he hissed.

The suction cups retracted and Bowman fell forward, onto his hands and knees. He was trembling violently, his head hanging low between his arms, fighting the urge to vomit. There were angry red weals on his face where the suckers had gripped him.

The Daleks were screeching at each other with excitement. 'ALERT! INFORM COMMAND! PRISONER IDENTIFIED AS SPACE MAJOR JON BOWMAN!'

'WE OBEY!' shrieked a pair of Daleks.

'Space Major?' echoed Cuttin' Edge. He sounded shocked. 'Space Major?'

'Since when?' Scrum asked.

'Since the very beginning,' said Lelouch while everyone looked at him. 'I've had my suspicions for a while now. Remember when Auros was destroyed? Bowman knew about The Osterhagen Principle. As I recall, only senior members of The Earth military would have access to that kind of information. No wonder The Daleks are so excited… it can't be often they catch someone as important as this.'

'Important?' Cuttin' Edge frowned. 'He ain't important. Well, not that kinda important.'

'The Daleks would appear to disagree though.' Lelouch said pointedly.

At this point a new Dalek arrived – it had a similar bronze shell to all the others but they obviously deferred to it as chief, backing away slightly to allow it access to the prisoners. The Doctor surmised that this would be The Dalek designated as overall commander of the prison.

'STAND!' ordered the Command Dalek, looming over Bowman. 'STAND IMMEDIATELY!'

Koral helped Bowman to his feet. He was unsteady, uncharacteristically pale and listless. His eyes were cloudy and he looked confused. Koral turned and spat at the Command Dalek. 'Leave him alone! Do not touch him or I will rip out your guts!'

'RELEASE THE PRISONER!' Already, the spittle was evaporating from the Dalek's head dome in a tiny, pathetic puff of steam. 'HE IS TO BE TAKEN FOR FULL BRAIN EXCORIATION.'

'You will have to kill me first!' Koral roared. She lunged at the nearest Dalek, flicking out her claws and gouging bright sparks from its armour plate.

But two Daleks fitted with claw manipulators had already moved in and seized her. They gripped her arms and practically lifted her off her feet, kicking and struggling.

'YOU WILL OBEY THE DALEKS,' said the Command Dalek.

'Why don't you just exterminate me!' Koral yelled.

'IT IS NOT NECESSARY,' intoned the Dalek. 'YOU ARE REQUIRED FOR WORK IN THE MINES. BUT YOU HAVE DISOBEYED THE DALEKS. ONE OF YOUR PARTY WILL BE PUNISHED.'

Bowman looked up groggily. 'No…' he croaked.

The Dalek glided forward. 'THE WEAKEST MEMBER WILL DIE,' it said.

The Companions widen their eyes on that statement.

Cuttin' Edge choked. 'No!' he bellowed, knowing exactly what this would mean.

'DISABLE THIS HUMAN,' ordered the Command Dalek. One of the others lowered its gun-stick, aiming for Cuttin' Edge's legs, and fired. A bright blue flash lit the area and Cuttin' Edge collapsed to the floor.

He then lay there, hands scrabbling at the metal, unable to get a grip. His legs were completely immobile, to The Companions widened eyes.

'I can't feel my legs!' he cried.

'YOU HAVE SUFFERED TEMPORARY NEUROLOGICAL DAMAGE,' one of the Daleks informed him. 'MOBILITY WILL RETURN IN DUE COURSE.'

Cuttin' Edge swore at the Dalek, completely unable to stand. Tears of pain and frustration ran hotly down his cheeks.

Scrum was watching all this, his face white with fear. He could hardly breathe. He knew exactly what was coming next, but his brain, normally so quick, had simply stopped thinking. He was completely unable to speak. His mouth dropped open wordlessly as two Daleks slowly turned to face him.

'EXTERMINATE THIS HUMAN,' ordered the Command Dalek.

As Cuttin' Edge cried on the ground, The Companions could do nothing but turn to look at The Doctor, his grim expression failing to provide the hope that they were looking for as a Dalek weapon fired at something behind them... something that fell to the ground when the beams stopped... something that had been somebody they had knew...

The twin beams caught Scrum full in the chest, illuminating him with a deadly, coruscating charge. He screamed and flung his arms out wide, the bones darkly visible through the irradiated flesh. And then he fell to the floor, sprawled across the metal next to Cuttin' Edge.

'No…' said Cuttin' Edge, almost silently. 'Please, no…'

Then Scrum's face tipped slowly over, and Cuttin' Edge saw that his eyes were still open, but they were charred black and utterly dead.

Scrum's smoking corpse lay between the prisoners and The Daleks.

All that could be heard in the minutes that followed was the dull, persistent throb of the Dalek machinery.

'There was no need for that,' said the Doctor quietly. He didn't look up. He was staring down at the body, his fists clenched hard. 'He wouldn't have harmed anyone.'

'HE WAS OF NO USE TO US,' replied the Command Dalek.

Its voice grated on the Doctor's nerves, and he closed his eyes to shut out the sight.

'You'll pay for this,' said Cuttin' Edge. He tried to sit up on the floor, teeth gritted as his legs filled with agonising pain. 'I'll make you pay.'

One of the Daleks circled around Cuttin' Edge, eyestalk fixed on him. 'SILENCE. YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE MINES AND MADE TO SERVE THE DALEKS.'

'No! Never! Kill me now, you metal b—'

'Cuttin' Edge!' barked Bowman. 'Leave it. Just… stay alive as long as you can.'

Cuttin' Edge looked up at him, his eyes wet with tears. There was a world of despair in those eyes, and they had turned to the only person who had ever believed in him, looking for hope, for reason, for anything. 'How?' he asked, eventually.

'Kid,' said Bowman, 'Just do your best.'

The Command Dalek approached Bowman. 'YOU WILL BE TAKEN FOR DEEP-LEVEL INTERROGATION. THE PROCESS INVOLVES BRAIN EXCORIATION AND SURGERY. YOU WILL NOT SURVIVE THIS PROCESS.'

Bowman did not reply. He merely looked the Dalek straight in the eye, his face as impassive as rock.

The Dalek moved a little closer, and then rasped, almost gloatingly, 'THE INFORMATION YOU POSSESS WILL SERVE THE DALEKS. IT WILL BE USED TO AID US IN OUR VICTORY AND HELP IN THE DESTRUCTION OF THE HUMAN RACE.'

'Yeah, right,' Bowman grunted. 'Tell me something I don't know.'

'YOU WILL OBEY THE DALEKS!'

Bowman raised an eyebrow. 'That a fact? What if I choose not to? What if I say you can take your gun-stick and—'

'SILENCE!'

'Why? What are you going to do to me, Dalek? I'm too valuable for you to exterminate. You need me alive for interrogation, remember? To help you wipe out mankind or something.'

The Dalek quivered, its arm and gun twitching with annoyance. The lights on its head flashed manically as it replied: 'YOU WILL BE MADE TO COOPERATE. IF NECESSARY YOU WILL BE PERMANENTLY DISABLED AND TAKEN TO THE INTERROGATION CHAMBER BY FORCE.'

Bowman straightened up, squaring his shoulders.

'Forget it. I'll walk. Which way is this interrogation chamber, anyway?'

Once again, The Doctor and The Companions felt like that they wanted to punch the air. There was Scrum, murdered in cold blood, and Cuttin' Edge with his legs paralysed, about to be dragged off with Koral to who knew what. But Bowman, the great, bloodyminded, thick-skinned and irresistible human being that he was, had still found a way to maintain his dignity. Koral had other ideas. She tried to free herself from the grip of her guards, but it was useless. Not even her alien sinews could break the grip of the Dalek claws. She pulled towards Bowman, her spine bent like a bow and her fangs bared, but it was no good.

Bowman saw her and just shook his head. 'I'll be OK,' he lied.

'No,' Koral said. Her voice came out as a pathetic croak. She turned to the Doctor. 'Please… You can't let them take him away.'

The Doctor swallowed. 'I can't stop them, Koral.'

'You can! You know you can!'

He shook his head. 'I can't.'

The Companions eyes widened at the exchange between The Doctor and Koral, with their one single thought being:

"Koral knew about The Doctor..."

How did she find out what she apparently knew they didn't know- maybe The Doctor let something slip when he was talking to her while they were separated on the Wayfarer at some point but that didn't change the fact that what she was doing was something so unbelievably selfish and stupid that they couldn't almost believe it.

'What's she talkin' about, man?' asked Cuttin' Edge.

'What's she sayin'?'

The Doctor looked away. 'Nothing. She doesn't know what she's talking about.'

'I do!' Koral's eyes flamed. She looked across at Bowman, who stood watching with a slightly puzzled frown on his old, craggy face. Then she turned back to the Doctor. 'You know the future. You've seen it. You know what happens. You know more than him.'

"NO!" Touma yelled, hissing in frustration as he walked over towards her; partly motivated by a desire to not lose the only person who he ever considered to be his second father and partly because he also knew that The Daleks being allowed any kind of access to The Doctor of all people was a terrible thing to him and to his fellow companions themselves to even to think about as they begin to realize its implications and explications towards them and everyone in existence. "Whatever you're thinking, don't; I understand how you feel about all of this, believe me, I do, but you don't understand-!"

'I understand that they are going to take him and cut out his brain!' Koral yelled at Touma and begins to look at The Doctor again . 'And you're just standing there, letting them do it! And he doesn't know anything. Not compared with you!'

The Doctor took a step towards her. Around them, all The Daleks had also turned to watch the altercation. 'It doesn't work like that. I can't let that happen.'

This time Koral did not reply. She simply stared at The Doctor, a look of utter desperation on her face.

The Doctor looked away.

Bowman caught his eye and shook his head slowly. His meaning was clear: don't do it.

'TAKE JON BOWMAN TO THE INTERROGATION LEVEL,' ordered the Command Dalek.

Two Daleks began to herd Bowman towards a ramp leading further down into the Dalek base. He walked ahead of them, head high and shoulders squared. He didn't look back.

The Companions couldn't do anything but watch helplessly as The Daleks began to take Bowman for their interrogation.

But then suddenly The Doctor said.

'Wait,'

The Command Dalek swung round to face him.

The Doctor cleared his throat. 'Can I have a private word?'

'SPEAK,' ordered the Dalek.

'Well, this is probably going to be a bit embarrassing…'

'EXPLAIN!'

'Look, I really hate it when people say this sort of thing, but… Do you know who I am?'

The Dalek said nothing. It simply stared. The Doctor stepped towards it, lowering his head slightly so that his mouth was level with the Dalek's neck grille. Ignoring the oily, noxious vapour that came from within, he leant a little closer.

And whispered something.

The effect on the Dalek was literally electric. Its head lamps flashed involuntarily and it suddenly jerked away, arm, gun and eye quivering like the antennae of an alarmed cockroach.

'ALERT!' it cried, head spinning from side to side. 'ALERT! SCAN THIS PRISONER!'

Two Daleks glided forward, suckers extended.

The Doctor stood, hands held wide. 'Come on,' he said with a smile and a wink. 'You know you want to.'

The sucker arms scanned his body up and down and then both Daleks became agitated. Ever so slightly, they seemed to move back, giving the prisoner a little more space.

'EMERGENCY!' one of them shrieked. 'EMERGENCY! IT IS THE DOC–TOR!'

'It's the twin hearts, isn't it?' asked the Doctor. 'They're such a giveaway.'

Several Daleks took up the chant, a note of hysteria entering their voices: 'IT IS THE DOC-TOR! IT IS THE DOC–TOR!'

'Please,' smiled the Doctor modestly. 'No autographs.'

The Command Dalek aimed its blaster at the Doctor.

'DO NOT MOVE! DO NOT MOVE! YOU ARE THE DOC–TOR! YOU ARE AN ENEMY OF THE DALEKS. YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!'

'Oh, come off it. Not before you've had a chance to interrogate me, surely?' The Doctor looked around the assembled Daleks. 'At least a quick question-and-answer session. No?'

Throughout the vast, metallic cavern, a ripple of agitation spread through the Dalek ranks, with The Doctor at its very centre.

The Companions were utterly dumbfounded at the display that The Daleks had made towards The Doctor when he began to reveal his identity to them but they weren't exactly surprised at this if they were to be honest.

Considering the fact that The Daleks and The Doctor have a very long history together, so of course they would know all about him as he was always the one who foils their plans in the end and The Doctor has been battling The Daleks even before The Time War, which would definitely explain why he had always managed to survive against The Worst of The War since he knew all of their tactics and strategies like the back of his mind and was so experienced enough in the ways of The Daleks that he was the one who was ultimately chosen by The Temporal Powers Alliance (TPA) to take full command of the legions upon legions of clone troopers from The Spatio-Temporal Armed Forces (STARS) throughout The War and personally led legions such as The 501st who were known as The Fist of The Doctor of War.

Despite himself, Cuttin' Edge was impressed. 'Dude, you got some serious presence. What the hell did you say to them?'

'Just enough to make Space Major Bowman look like third prize in the Christmas raffle. Sorry about that.' The Doctor turned to Bowman with an apologetic shrug. 'I'm afraid they're not going to be all that interested in you now. Try not to feel too downhearted.'

'I always knew there was something you weren't telling us,' replied Bowman. 'Turns out you're Dalek Enemy Number One. Congratulations.'

The Doctor nodded sadly. 'I know. Funny how things turn out, isn't it?'

'SILENCE!' shouted the Command Dalek. 'DO NOT SPEAK! YOU ARE A PRISONER OF THE DALEKS! YOU WILL BE TAKEN FOR INTERROGATION! AND THEN YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED! EXTERMINATED!'

'You always make me feel so welcome.'

This was now altogether too much for The Dalek. Its sucker arm thudded into the Doctor's stomach and he folded, the wind whooshing out of him. As he lay on the floor, gasping for air, the Command Dalek turned back to Bowman. " YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO AWAIT YOUR INTERROGATION. THE OTHER MEMBERS OF YOUR CREW WILL BE TAKEN TO WORK IN THE CORE MINES. "

Two Daleks lifted Cuttin' Edge and, dangling him like a puppet, took him away with Koral, heading for a doorway that led deeper into the prison.

Koral looked back at Bowman, shouting, 'I will come back for you!'

And then the door closed and Bowman knew that would be the last he ever saw of her.

The Companions barely even registered Koral's screams to Bowman as the clawed Daleks began to take them down to a nearby corridor towards what they could only assume were the previously-mentioned mines, all they could do was keep their eyes fixed on The Doctor, who was looking at them all with a look that says that he'll be alright and that they should worry more about themselves and stick together, while praying that he'd stay safe while they all figure out how to survive this.

"Now what to we do?" Kyon said as he look towards his fellow companions for any ideas.

"I guess all that we can do right now is play our roles. " Lelouch sighed heavily as he looked towards them all with a calculative and serious look.

"Damn it!" Touma thought as he clenches his fist in frustration while wondering on whether or not The Doctor would be alright.

If The Companions ever harboured even a passing thought about a career in mining, the last few hours had quickly suppressed it; even the knowledge that the Daleks were pushing them all like this was because of some sadistic sense of pleasure- as much as anything that was meant to have abandoned all emotion could feel pleasure, anyway- didn't change the fact that the work was very exhausting and very repetitive even when they started out liking it the first time, and that definitely wasn't the case here.

The conditions that they were all working in didn't exactly help matters that much either, of course. Not only did they have to work in a boiling hot cavern that was surrounded by black granite and lava- they might have actually appreciated the visual spectacle if it wasn't for the fact that they were being forced to work in it-, but they were using simple pickaxes to hack away at rock that was probably at least as hard as the steel from ordinary buildings, for no other reason than that the Daleks wanted them to do this...

There was truly no way that they could do this kind of work faster than anything The Daleks could construct to do the same job for themselves, and they were still making them work just to rub their status as the 'supreme beings' right in their faces.

In everyone's honest opinion, especially Lelouch's honest opinion, it really does hammer home the horrible fact that his people, the Britannians, were saints compared to what the Daleks truly were.

Remembering what The Doctor had told to them about their so called philosophy in the past, they had to restrain themselves from making some kind of joke about how the Daleks could consider themselves as the supreme beings when they didn't even have hands and were so wide fitting through some areas that they would practically be impossible for them to accomplish; with the memory of what those 'tasers' that some of them had acquired in place of suckers could do to people if pushed, they weren't exactly in the mood for suffering any more damage than they already had to.

They weren't sure if the chains that they had to wear or the potential threat of the tasers were worse.

The tasers hurt, but that was only if they actually tried to escape and 'forced' the Daleks to use them.

Given that they were stuck on a shattered planet light-years away from anyone else with nobody aware of where they were or what their situation was, the chains did nothing but to reinforce the idea that they were only alive as long as The Daleks wanted them to be.

Not that they would likely forget that part of this whole mess, of course; the eleven-year-old girl working alongside them that Conan had managed to befriend was enough proof of that. Work groups were apparently divided into groups of four, with a few other prisoners off to the side, most likely to allow the Daleks to create a new group after they exterminated a previous one for failing to work to their 'standards'. With a group having been exterminated shortly before their arrival, the Daleks had swiftly 'assigned' Koral, Cuttin' Edge and The Companions to take the previous group's place, and, since they were one person short, this little girl, Kuli, had been dragged out from the waiting prisoners and left with us...

The Companions, especially Touma who tried so very hard not to just punch The Daleks with The Imagine Breaker right there and then as he knows that it was utterly futile since it wouldn't really work on them, tried very hard to not feel sick to their stomach at the memory of what the Daleks had done to her mother simply for wanting to stay with her child, The sight of that little girl, struggling to hold back her tears as she found herself stuck with nothing but strangers for company while her mother's dead body lay only a short distance away from them...

Kami, if the Daleks thought that emotions made them weak, they only had to look at Kuli and know that they were talking crap; that little girl struggling to hold on to her control even after such a devastating loss was all the proof that they had truly needed. Luckily enough, Conan was there to assist her and comfort her with her loss.

Of course, Cuttin' Edge wasn't doing too badly either; as much as the older man had gotten on some of their nerves on the Wayfarer, they had to admire his strength. He still had some trouble maintaining his balance after the damage the Daleks had caused to his legs in their earlier attack after he'd protested when they'd killed Scrum, but he had so far managed to keep standing without obviously leaning on any of us for support. Even if Koral occasionally had to grab his shoulder to stop him from tipping over, he still refused to give in to his pain simply because of what the Daleks would do to them and too all of them if he showed any kind of weakness.

As Kyon uses his pickaxe to dug into the granite in front of them for what felt like the millionth time, he honestly wished that he could just take this axe and ram it into a Dalek shell instead; if it weren't for the fact that the shell is impervious to any kind of ordinary attack that they could throw at it, not helping the fact that those damn forcefields were making the Daleks almost tougher than nails, he'd have taken a swing at them already just to have the utter satisfaction of at least doing something to them...

Even with the best will in the world, however, they knew that we weren't going to last for much longer; even if Cuttin' Edge wasn't trying to show his weakness, the heat and the chains had definitely pushed them to their limits, and Kuli in particular was clearly scared to death at what might be about to happen to them.

"Don't give in now," Koral said grimly.

"I know..." Lelouch panted, as he tried to weakly raise his axe for another blow, "just because... you're... tough enough... to cope... doesn't mean... we all are..."

"I don't want to die!" Kuli said, shaking with sobs. "I don't want to die!"

"Sssh..." Conan said, pausing to reach awkwardly over to give Kuli an affectionate pat. "Just... just keep it up; we'll be fine..."

As Touma was working with his pick-axe for what felt like the millionth time, he begins to have deep thought in his century old mind that he couldn't help but wish that Rika was here; she could have probably offered Kuli a lot more comfort at a time like this than they ever could...

Despite the weakness of the attempted comfort, Kuli nevertheless smiled over at Conan with a tearful smile.

"Thank you, Conan." she said awkwardly.

Conan made a sad smile, making a sad nod, then gets back to work as he raises his shovel towards the hard ground.

"No," Cuttin' Edge said, his teeth gritted in resolution. " You helped me. I could hardly stand and you kept me goin'. All of you."

"It's not over yet," Koral said resolutely.

"It is now," Cuttin' Edge said, glancing grimly over at a cloud of sulphur in the distance.

They didn't see what he was looking at in the cloud at first, but then they saw two Daleks emerging from that cloud- Cuttin' Edge must have noticed them earlier because of his military training-, and realized what was coming.

"WORK UNIT DELTA!" one of the Daleks said, looking directly at us. "STEP FORWARD!"

Only the fact that they were nowhere near the time when the Daleks would give the order to execute the least productive team had allowed them to even remotely relax just a little, and that was a poor comforting thought considering what The Doctor had told them about the Daleks so far.

Speaking of The Doctor, they all thought, they honestly hope that he was alright, with their common thought being that he was probably sharing a cell with Bowman right at this very moment.

Bowman paced back and forth like a wild animal in a cage. The cell was no more than a few metres square, solid walls and floor. No windows. A harsh white light beat down on his head. Two narrow benches ran along opposite walls.

Bowman tried sitting down but he couldn't keep skill. The anger inside him raged like a beast. He wanted to punch the walls, kick the door, tear apart the first thing that came through it with his bare hands.

The cell door hummed open and the Doctor was thrown inside. He hit the floor heavily and groaned. The door closed behind him with a solid clang.

Bowman stalked backwards and forwards but made no attempt to help him up.

The Doctor crawled up onto a bench and stared at Bowman for a full minute before saying, 'All that pacing up and down is going to wear you out. It's making me tired just watching you.'

'Shut up.'

'Sorry. What are you doing, thinking up a way to escape?'

'You don't escape from a place like this,' Bowman snarled back. 'You just wait until they come and kill you.'

The Doctor blew out his cheeks in a long sigh. 'You're a big comfort, aren't you? Some cellmate.'

'I'm just telling it like it is.'

'Sounds more like you're giving in.'

'Don't you see?' Bowman suddenly roared. 'Don't you care? They're gonna rip our brains out! It's the end of the line!'

'Well, technically, they're going to take my brain apart neuron by neuron. But yes, they'll probably just rip yours out.' Under his breath, the Doctor added, 'If they can find it…'

'You think this is all one big joke, don't you?'

The Doctor stretched out his legs and folded his arms.

'No. I think it's a disaster. And, worst of all, I should have seen it coming.'

'What?'

'We've been set up. This was a trap all along. A great big gold-plated trap. With the words "this is a trap" written on it in mile-high luminous letters. And we just walked right into it.'

Bowman frowned dangerously. 'What the hell do you mean?'

'The Dalek on the Wayfarer,' explained the Doctor. 'It tricked us. When it finally talked, it left us just enough clues to lead us here, to Arkheon.'

'You mean it tricked you,' Bowman said. 'You brought us here, remember.'

'Yeah, well, if you want to point the finger, then maybe – maybe – I should have seen it coming. I did exactly what I told you not to – which is underestimate the Daleks. They're always thinking, always conniving, always planning. You can't trust them an inch. Even in its last, dying moments that Dalek – having been torn out of its life-support machine and tortured – managed to trick us. Sold us half a line about the Arkheon Threshold and left my imagination to do the rest. It knew who I was, it knew who you were. And it tricked us into taking ourselves straight to the biggest Dalek prison this side of Skaro.' The Doctor's eyes narrowed as he stared into space. 'Clever, that. Really, really clever.'

Bowman leant down so that he was right in the Doctor's face. 'For your information, I don't admire the Daleks. Never have done. I respect them, but I don't admire them.'

The Doctor smiled. 'Nah. It's not respect, Bowman. It's fear.'

'What did you say?'

'I said it's fear. That's what you're feeling now.'

'No chance.'

'It's fear of what the Daleks can do to you, of what they can do to your friends and family and loved ones. What they can do to all of us – everyone and everything that isn't a Dalek. Cos you know they won't stop until they're the only creatures left in the universe.'

'The supreme beings?' Bowman sneered. 'In their dreams.'

'That's more like it,' grinned the Doctor. 'There's life in the old dog yet.'

'All the detention cells they must have in this place, and I get to share one with you.'

The Doctor sat up on the bench. 'It could be worse. You could have been having your brain scooped out of your skull and dissected by now.'

'Tough choice.' Bowman sat back on a narrow metal bench and folded his arms.

'At least this way we've got a bit more time. You've been put on the back burner while they think what to do with me.'

'Whatever.'

'And they've put us together deliberately,' said the Doctor, looking upwards. The cell was metal and

otherwise featureless – apart from a protected light fitting in the ceiling and a camera mounted high up on one wall which resembled a Dalek eyestalk. 'They'll be watching everything we do. They want to hear what we've got to say to each other.'

'Which is nothing.'

'Oh come on. Talking is good! I like talking.'

Bowman closed his eyes. 'Yeah, I'd noticed.'

They sat in silence for a minute before the Doctor said, 'So. Space Major Bowman. You're a bit of a dark horse, aren't you?'

Bowman looked balefully at the Doctor. 'Don't you ever give up?'

'Never. So come on. How come you're so important to the Daleks?'

'I thought you said they'd be listening to us,' Bowman growled, jerking a thumb at the eyestalk on the wall.

'Yeah, but they'll know all this stuff already. They'll probably just turn over and watch whatever's on the other side.' The Doctor sat forward and pointed at the white scar on Bowman's forearm. 'That's what gave you away, isn't it? Where you took the old Earth Command transmitter out of your arm. Everyone over the rank of captain has one surgically implanted when they're commissioned. It's a little microchip that transmits your location and health status – basically whether you're alive or dead – back to base. Helps Earth Command keep track of all its important military assets right across the galaxy. But you took yours out, which is strictly against orders. Are you a deserter, Space Major Bowman?'

Bowman's eyes narrowed. The Doctor was staring at him, eyes huge, mouth hanging open in a half grin. Bowman felt like punching his lights out.

'It's a bit more complicated than that,' he said eventually.

The Doctor sat back, put his hands behind his head and stretched his long legs out on the bench. 'Go on, I'm listening.'

'Well,' Bowman rumbled, 'maybe it just seemed complicated at the time. Thing is, I was once a good soldier with a bright future. Did some good stuff in the First Dalek Incursion. Got promoted. Somehow ended up a Space Major and before I knew it I was helping to design the defense system for Earth Central. I'd gone from being a fighting soldier on the front line to a security consultant sitting behind a desk. Didn't like it one bit – but I did a good job.'

A bitter look flashed across his face at the memory.

'When I finished, Earth Command decided that I was now a security risk because I knew so much and the safest thing to do was wipe my memory.'

The Doctor winced sympathetically. 'No wonder you didn't want to involve Earth Command in this business.'

'Yeah, well, I didn't fancy a future as a brainless old trooper in some spacers' home. So I got out.'

'You deserted.'

'I cut the chip out of my arm and buried it in the desert on the planet Mykron. And then I went on the run.'

'But carried on doing the only thing you knew – killing Daleks.'

'The only thing I wanted to do. Worked around the fringes of the Earth worlds for a while, on the Wayfarer. But eventually, when Earth was getting desperate, they started recruiting bounty hunters to harass the Dalek forces on the frontier planets. I jumped at the chance to kill some Daleks, and it paid good money.'

'Bit of a comedown, though, for a high-ranking officer in the Space Service.'

'Better than winding up a brainless old trooper.'

Bowman considered where he was and then added, 'Looks like that's gonna happen now anyhow. The defence system for Earth Central is still wet-wired into my brain. The Daleks know that – I've been on their most wanted list for years. Now I'm here and I can't help thinking I should have taken the brain-wipe when it was first offered.'

'Rubbish. While you're still alive and you've still got all your marbles, there's always hope. Always.'

Bowman raised an eyebrow. 'You're pretty optimistic for a man who's sitting in a cell at the very centre of the Daleks' biggest prison and interrogation centre.'

The Doctor was suddenly struck by a thought. 'Have you ever heard of something called the Dalek Inquisitor General?'

Bowman's eyes opened fractionally. 'Where did you hear that name?'

'The Command Dalek said I was going to be interrogated by the Dalek Inquisitor General. Mean

anything to you?'

Bowman sat upright. His whole demeanour had subtly changed: he was alert, tense, and his eyes were uncharacteristically wide. 'You've got to be kidding. You've never heard of Dalek X?'

'Should I have?'

Bowman drew a deep breath.

'The Dalek Inquisitor General is one of Earth Command's priority targets. His Space Service security designation is X. Hence the nickname – Dalek X. If they've called him in then you're in more trouble than I thought. In fact, you must have put every damned Dalek from here to Skaro on red alert.' He leant forward, staring intently at his cellmate as if examining him properly for the very first time. 'Just who the hell are you? Really?'

'Never mind about me. Tell me what you know about this Dalek X.'

'Well, he's a whole deal of trouble. It's not very often a particular Dalek gets a reputation – but he's one of the Supreme Dalek's top commanders and a helluva tough customer. They say he's put the order in to exterminate more humans than anyone else in history. I've heard him described as the Devil in Dalek form.'

The Doctor sagged. 'Suddenly I'm not feeling quite so optimistic.'

In the main control room, the Command Dalek swung around to face a subordinate. 'REPORT!'

'EXCAVATION WORK ON THE PLANETARY CORE IS BEHIND SCHEDULE,' said the Dalek.

'SLAVE OUTPUT IS FALLING. RESOURCES HAVE BEEN DIVERTED TO ENSURE MAXIMUM SECURITY ON LEVEL NINE ZERO ONE.'

Level nine zero one was Arkheon's most secure area. That was where the Doctor was being held.

'UNDERSTOOD,' replied the Command Dalek. 'REPORT ON THE SCIENTIFIC RESEARCH TEAM.'

'PROGRESS CONTINUES. THE RESEARCH TEAM ESTIMATES THRESHOLD BREAKTHROUGH IN THREE SOLAR DAYS.'

'THAT IS UNSATISFACTORY! THE ARKHEON THRESHOLD MUST BE BROKEN AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. DIVERT ALL AVAILABLE RESOURCES. PRIORITY ONE!' The Command Dalek glided over to one of the main control panels, where several circular screens showed views of the surrounding cosmos. 'THE DALEK INQUISITOR GENERAL IS DUE TO ARRIVE IN FOUR HUNDRED RELS! THE FLEET HAS BEEN PLACED ON FULL ALERT ON THE EDGE OF THE ARKHEON SYSTEM. WE MUST BE READY!'

There was no mistaking the rising pitch of the Command Dalek's voice. The subordinate's lights flashed urgently. 'I OBEY!' it shrieked, and turned to leave the room quickly.

The Command Dalek watched the screens. One showed a fleet of Dalek saucers flying in formation towards Arkheon space. A tiny thrill of anticipation passed through the shrunken creature inside the bronze casing. Anticipation and fear. It could sense, like every other Dalek in the room, that history was about to be made. Or, if not actually made, then torn apart.

Dalek X was coming.

The Inquisitor General had adopted the security designation given to him by Earth Command. He understood that it inspired fear in humans – fear of the unknown, fear of his ruthlessness, fear of his complete devotion to the Supreme Dalek. Dalek X had just one purpose, one goal: the total and utter destruction of the human race. Mastery over every other life form. Domination of The Multiverse at any cost.

These were the central beliefs of every Dalek in existence, but Dalek X was driven by something else: the certain knowledge that the only way the Dalek race would ever achieve its ultimate aim was by conquering both space and time. He reported only to the Supreme Dalek on Skaro. He was feared by everyone and everything in the galaxy.

And he was coming for The Doctor.

'We've got to get out of here,' said the Doctor. He was moving around the cell, checking the walls and floor.

'Don't be stupid,' growled Bowman.

'You can either sit there and criticise, or you can help.'

Bowman snorted. 'What are you looking for? A trap door?'

'Anything. Anything at all.' The Doctor dropped to his hands and knees, pressing his ear to the metal floor. 'I can't hear a thing. I think we're on the lowest level.'

'Figures.'

The Doctor jumped to his feet. 'Well, it means one good thing: the only way is up!'

'Feeling optimistic again?'

'Oh yes!'

'You're insane.'

'I'm in here. And I want to be out there.' The Doctor pointed at the door. 'Is that so crazy?'

'Save your breath, Doctor. You'll need it for screaming when Dalek X gets hold of you.'

'By the time Dalek X gets here, I intend to be long gone. But if you see him, pass on my regards.'

'You're never gonna give up, are you?'

'Are you?'

'Have you ever escaped from a Dalek prison cell before, Doctor?'

"Loads of times. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. I visited Skaro and all I got was this lousy T-shirt. Believe me, it can be done."

'All right.' Bowman got slowly to his feet. He was as tall as the Doctor but he was a lot broader. He seemed to fill the little cell. 'What do we do?'

'Bang on the door. Yell for the guards. You say I'm sick – I'm having a fit or something. Or I'm dead! Yes, tell 'em I'm dead. I've just collapsed on the floor – double heart attack. That'll bring them running.' The Doctor quickly lay on the floor, spread-eagled with his eyes shut. 'Go on!' Bowman thumped on the door. 'Hey, Dalek!' he called. 'I know you're out there. You better come in and check this out. The Doctor's collapsed. I think he's dead.'

Silence.

The Doctor opened one eye. 'Any sign?'

'Yeah, I think they've sent for an ambulance.'

'This is no time to develop a sense of humour, Bowman.' The Doctor got back up on his feet. 'I thought I

could rely on you to be dour and pessimistic.'

'Hey, I'm just killing time until they come to rip my brains out. Meanwhile, I'm wondering exactly what they must be thinking, watching you do all this.' He pointed up at the camera eye on the wall. 'Or had you forgotten they're watching our every move and listening to our every word?'

The Doctor looked up at the eyestalk, almost comically surprised. Then he turned to face Bowman, and, together, they burst out laughing.

'Well,' gasped the Doctor after a few moments, wiping his eyes, 'it was worth a try!'

Bowman shook his head in wonderment. The two men stared at each other, a unique moment of comradeship passing between them. Locked together in the deepest dungeon of a Dalek prison, they both knew the end was in sight.

In the distance, echoing through the steel walls of their cell, a klaxon sounded. A warning alarm. It was the kind of noise that made the guts turn over.

Bowman swallowed. 'Dalek X is here,' he said.

On the edge of the Arkheon solar system, a squadron of Dalek saucers emerged from hyperspace and swept towards the broken planet that glittered like a tiny diamond in the glare of its distant sun.

Six outrider saucers zoomed ahead of the giant Exterminator-class flagship belonging to the Supreme Dalek's Inquisitor General.

It was the first of its kind; the ultimate expression of Dalek power. Ten immense antigravity impeller engines thrust the ship onwards, so powerful that they left a trail of time distortion in its wake. The neutronic reactor at the ship's centre supplied gigantic power to the vast array of particle-beam weapons, missiles and energy-shield repulsors. The saucer carried a standard crew complement of five hundred Daleks plus ten ranking commanders and, at the very top, secure in his Dalekenium plate-armoured control dome, Dalek X.

This squadron of ships had broken away from the command battle fleet, redirected from Skaro, for one purpose only: to bring the Primary Intelligence Unit, led by the Inquisitor General, to Arkheon. Its mission: to interrogate and destroy the definitive enemy of the Daleks – the renegade Time Lord known only as the Doctor.

The ships swooped into orbit around the shattered remains of the prison planet, scything through what was left of the upper atmosphere and cracking the deserted ruins of its once-beautiful cities with a succession of giant sonic booms.

The Exterminator settled into a geostationary orbit level with the huge cavern that housed the landing port and upper tiers of the Dalek prison facility. The saucer was far too big to land in the cavern or even dry dock. It simply hovered, its engines throbbing with enough suppressed power to shake loose stones from the edges of the cave. Hatches slid open around the saucer's edge, and a phalanx of Daleks poured out in strict formation, heading for the landing platforms.

There were many more Daleks assembled in ranks on the various levels of the Arkheon base. At the very front was the gleaming bronze shape of the Command Dalek. The Exterminator Daleks hovered as a small unit broke away and floated down towards the reception area. There were two elite guard Daleks, their black domes continually sweeping from side to side, double gun-sticks raised, and they came in to land first. Behind them were four assault Daleks, fitted with laser-cutting claws rather than suckers.

And then there was Dalek X.

The armour casing was gunmetal black where the other Daleks were bronze. But the globes which studded the base unit and the thick armour slats on the weapons platform were all gold. He glided imperiously onto the landing level and swept straight past the Command Dalek without even acknowledging it.

The Command Dalek slid hurriedly in behind the Inquisitor General.

'REPORT!' barked Dalek X.

The Command Dalek edged closer as they moved towards the prison interior, flanked by the assault and elite guards. 'CORE SEPARATION IS PROCEEDING AS ORDERED – BUT THE SCHEDULE HAS BEEN DELAYED BY THE ARRIVAL AND APPREHENSION OF THE DOC–TOR!'

'HOW LONG UNTIL THE ARKHEON THRESHOLD IS BREACHED?'

'RESEARCH TEAM ESTIMATES TWO SOLAR DAYS UNTIL THE THRESHOLD IS EXPOSED. PARTICLE ACCELERATION BOMBARDMENT WILL FOLLOW IMMEDIATELY!'

They had reached the interior hallway. Dalek X swept around and allowed his cold blue gaze to fall on the Command Dalek for the first time. 'THE DELAY IS UNACCEPTABLE,' it grated. 'SUMMON THE DALEKS RESPONSIBLE FOR MAGNETIC CORE SEPARATION.'

'I OBEY!'

Led by Dalek X, the group moved into the prison control centre. The guard Daleks took up positions behind and either side of their master. Very soon, three Dalek mine overseers arrived. Their normal bronze casings were covered in grime and dust and lava splashes from the cave systems that surrounded the planet's molten core.

Dalek X's dome lights flashed menacingly. 'EXPLAIN THE DELAY IN MAGNETIC CORE SEPARATION!'

One of the Daleks moved forwards, twitching nervously. 'DISRUPTION DUE TO THE ARRIVAL OF THE DOC–TOR HAS DIVERTED RESOURCES FROM THE MINE WORKINGS. THE HUMAN SLAVES ARE NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO ABSORB THE INCREASED WORKLOAD.'

'THIS DELAY IS UNACCEPTABLE,' repeated Dalek X implacably. 'YOU HAVE FAILED THE DALEKS! FAILURE CANNOT BE TOLERATED! EXTERMINATE!'

The two elite guard Daleks on either side of him instantly opened fire, unleashing twin bursts of neutronic energy at the mine Dalek. The creature inside was fried alive, its harsh, dying shriek nearly drowned by the piercing screech of the beams. A moment later, all that was left of the Dalek was a blackened shell, the oily smoke belching from the neck grille accompanied by a quiet sizzling noise.

'RECYCLE THE CASING,' ordered Dalek X, addressing the remaining mine Daleks. 'CONTINUE WITH THE SEPARATION SCHEDULE. FORCE THE HUMANS TO WORK HARDER AND FASTER. SELECT THE WEAKEST HUMAN EVERY HOUR AND EXTERMINATE IT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER SLAVES. THEY WILL REDOUBLE THEIR EFFORTS. CONTINUE!'

'WE OBEY!' shouted the Daleks. They turned and hurried away.

The Doctor was listening at the door of the cell with his stethoscope. He moved the diaphragm carefully around the metal frame and then raised his eyebrows.

'Lots of activity outside,' he murmured. 'Something's really stirred them up.'

'I told you,' said Bowman. 'It's Dalek X.'

The Doctor straightened up and folded away the stethoscope.

'We've got to get out of here.'

'Why didn't I think of that?' wondered Bowman drily. He was sitting along one of the benches watching the Doctor run his hands through his hair in agitation.

'We can't all be geniuses,' replied the Doctor, but he wasn't smiling. He started to go through his pockets.

'This is the top Dalek detention and interrogation facility. No one gets out of here alive.'

'You're being negative again.'

'I tell you it's impossible,' growled Bowman, losing patience.

'I like impossible!'

In the prison control centre, the Command Dalek was studying a bank of monitors. Circular screens projected images of the mines, the core, the research laboratories, and the prison levels. One large monitor was showing the interior of the Doctor's cell on level nine zero one. The Doctor and Bowman were sitting opposite each other, talking.

Dalek X glided over and stared intently at the image.

'WHICH ONE IS THE DOC–TOR?'

The Command Dalek indicated. The thin figure on the screen made the creature that lurked inside the bronze casing squirm. But Dalek X seemed completely unfazed. He studied the Time Lord with fierce intent, the blue light in his eye growing stronger by the second. And then, bizarrely, the Doctor looked up, straight at the camera lens. His wide, alien eyes stared out of the screen at the observers.

'HE KNOWS THAT WE ARE OBSERVING HIM!' said the Command Dalek.

'IT IS UNIMPORTANT. THE DOC–TOR HAS A HIGHER THAN AVERAGE INTELLIGENCE RATING FOR A HUMANOID. CERTAIN REACTIONS ARE EXPECTED.'

The Command Dalek touched a control and a succession of images flicked rapidly across the screen – different men: old, young, tall, short. The faces flicked past at bewildering speed. 'THIS PERSON DOES NOT MATCH ANY PREVIOUS IDENTIFIABLE VERSIONS OF THE DOC–TOR IN OUR DATABANKS.'

'HE CONTINUALLY CHANGES HIS PHYSICAL APPEARANCE IN A FUTILE EFFORT TO AVOID DETECTION,' explained Dalek X. His eyestalk never left the Doctor on the screen. 'HE HAS INTERFERED WITH DALEK PLANS ON MANY OCCASIONS. BUT HE WILL INTERFERE NO LONGER.'

'HE IS RESOURCEFUL AND CUNNING,' warned the Command Dalek.

'HE RELIES ON FORTUITY. HIS ARROGANCE WILL PROVE TO BE HIS DOWNFALL.' Dalek X turned away. 'BRING HIM TO THE INTERROGATION CHAMBER!'

The Doctor and Bowman had emptied their pockets to see what they could muster between them. It was the Doctor's idea; Bowman complied simply because he was too tired to argue.

On the floor in the centre of the cell was a little pile of junk: the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, his psychic paper, glasses, the TARDIS key, a pencil, a handful of strange coins, some string and a couple of rubber bands. He studied the assorted odds and ends as he chewed the earpiece on his stethoscope.

'No blaster,' observed Bowman.

'Guns are not the only weapons,' replied the Doctor tartly. 'It's all a matter of resources – and using our brains. Or rather my brain.'

'You going to take out the guard with a pencil?'

The Doctor picked through the junk. The sonic screwdriver was useless; all Dalek doors were deadlock sealed. The screwdriver wouldn't even scratch them. He picked up the TARDIS key and looked at it sadly. Then heclosed his fist tightly around it. 'Come on, Doctor, think!'

Bowman sat back with a sigh.

'There must be more,' insisted the Doctor. 'Come on, anything. Are you sure you've checked all your pockets? No one travels that light.'

'I do.'

'You're just not trying. You've given up!'

Bowman raised an eyebrow. 'I think I gave up a long, long time ago.'

Something in his voice made the Doctor stop. He watched Bowman carefully for a second or two before saying, 'You mean when you first went on the run? I don't think Cuttin' Edge would believe that. He thinks the world of you.'

'Cuttin' Edge is just a kid.' Bowman rubbed a big hand across his eyes. 'No, I gave up long before all that.'

He reached into a side pocket and withdrew a small card. He threw it down in front of the Doctor. It was an old photograph, slightly creased and dog-eared – and the same picture that the Doctor had already seen as a hologram in Bowman's cabin aboard the Wayfarer. A very young, smooth-faced Jon Bowman with his proud parents.

'There,' growled Bowman. 'That's everything I have. There's nothing else.'

The Doctor picked up the photo and studied it.

Bowman was smiling out from the past, caught in an unguarded moment when he knew nothing of the future. The Doctor wondered if that smile would have been sobright if he could have seen what lay ahead: older, tougher, disowned and disheartened, sitting on the floor of a Dalek prison cell.

'Ever since we came here,' said Bowman thickly, 'ever since I met you and your companions… I've had a feeling that this was it. The end of the line. I looked at Stella when she was lying in the sickbay and I knew – I just knew – what was coming.'

He took the photo back and stared at the picture. 'The end of the line.'

'Not yet,' the Doctor said. 'You mustn't ever give up. There's always a chance.'

He grunted, unconvinced.

'Are your parents still alive?'

Bowman shrugged, 'Maybe. I haven't seen them in a long, long time. I doubt they even think of me any more. Why would they? I'm just a bad memory. When I went on the run, the army would have called on them, told them.'

Bowman's words faded as his lips grew tight. He stared at the image in the photo, at the smiling eyes of his parents. He knew they weren't smiling at him.

'It's not too late…' began the Doctor.

The door to the cell suddenly whirred open, revealing two Daleks.

'End of the line, Doctor,' said Bowman.

They were taken out of the cell and marched down a series of featureless metal corridors. The Doctor could see that Bowman was getting very anxious now. His skin was a horrible grey colour, his lips compressed into a thin white line. His eyes were sunk deep into his head, full of visions of what lay ahead.

The Doctor's own hearts were hammering in his chest, the blood pounding away in his head. He was trying to think, trying to come up with a last-minute escape plan or brilliant idea, but his mind felt paralysed.

They passed a number of doorways and laboratories, with wide windows allowing views of Daleks at work: the Doctor saw one room with a native Arkheon mutant strapped to the wall, its skin glowing brightly under the harsh electric light. A Dalek opened fire at the mutant, which blackened and died like an autumn leaf. Another Dalek was calculating exactly what firepower was required to exterminate the creature.

Sickened, the Doctor looked away.

They arrived at a junction. Bowman was led to one door, while the Doctor was pushed towards another.

'Looks like this is it,' said Bowman. 'Time to give them a piece of my mind.'

The Doctor gamely tried to smile at Bowman's joke, but all he felt was a profound, helpless sadness. He

swallowed with difficulty and then looked at Bowman.

'I'm sorry,' he said.

Bowman touched his forehead with a finger in ironic salute as the door began to close. 'Good luck.'

'Never give up!' the Doctor shouted after him. 'Never!'

Then the door slammed shut.

'MOVE!' ordered the Dalek next to him.

The Doctor drew a breath, and followed the Dalek into a darkened room. He was marched over to a metal wall and forced to stand upright against it. It felt uncomfortably like being made ready for the firing squad. His ankles and wrists were secured with tight steel bands so that he was utterly immobilised. The Daleks then withdrew and the door clanged shut behind them. The Doctor was left in complete darkness.

It was cold. He had no idea how big the room was or what else was in there with him. He couldn't see a thing. All he could hear was the heavy, metallic throb of Dalek machinery and behind that some kind of hard, electric vibration. The air tasted of static.

Something cold and metal embraced his head. The Doctor gasped as his skull was clamped into position and a hundred fine needles pricked his scalp. This is it, he thought, his hearts racing. The beginning of the end.

Eventually, a light appeared in the darkness – a blue disc. The eye of a Dalek. He sensed rather than saw the familiar shape as it circled, its single blue eye always on him.

Eventually a harsh, grating voice said, 'DOC–TOR…'

The lights on the Dalek's head flashed slowly, in time with each syllable. The Doctor swallowed. This Dalek was in no hurry. He licked his lips and, as brightly as he could manage, replied, 'That's me.' His voice sounded more brittle than he would have liked.

'I AM DALEK X.'

'Can't say I'm pleased to meet you, sorry.'

'YOU ARE ATTACHED TO A DALEK MINDPROBE MACHINE. IT HAS BEEN CALIBRATED TO YOUR SPECIFIC BRAINWAVE FREQUENCY.'

'You won't get anything out of me,' the Doctor blurted.

'THAT IS NOT THE INTENTION,' replied Dalek X. 'YET.'

The Doctor couldn't turn his head because of the mind probe. It felt like a vice clamped around his skull. A couple of extra turns on the screw would crack the bone.

'So…' he said at last, 'what do you want? If it's my secret recipe for bread and butter pudding you can forget it. I'm taking that little beauty to my grave.'

'I INTEND TO MEASURE YOUR CAPACITY FOR PHYSICAL PAIN,' said Dalek X.

'Oh. Why?'

'BECAUSE I WISH TO.'

The Dalek's sucker touched a control on the mindprobe machine and turned it minutely. There was a fierce, galvanistic crackle of power, and the Doctor's body arched like a bow, straining against its bonds. A howl of anguish echoed through the darkness, torn from his lips with sudden, shocking ease.

How long it was before the control was released the Doctor could not tell. Time passed in an abstract sense amid a kaleidoscope of pain. It could have been seconds, minutes or even hours. It left him drained, limp, his hair stuck to his head with perspiration and his throat raw from screaming.

'EXPECT NO MERCY,' Dalek X informed him.

'I'm not stupid,' The Doctor croaked, feeling very stupid indeed. Partly because his head felt so foggy with pain but also because he couldn't for the life of him work out how it had all come to this: helpless, friendless and homeless, chained to a wall and tortured by the Devil in Dalek form. That's how Bowman had described him, and it was difficult to argue.

'DALEKS DO NOT SHOW MERCY,' said Dalek X.

'Yes,' The Doctor replied. 'I know.'

'MERCY IS WEAKNESS.'

'Really? Why don't you just give it a try? Go on, I won't tell anyone.' The Doctor tensed, ready for the next onslaught. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Dalek's suction arm hovering over the probe control. Any second now and he would be plunged back into the abyss of pain. 'On second thoughts, maybe I'm wasting my breath. And I've reconsidered the bread and butter pudding thing. You can have it if you want.'

'YOU DO NOT BEG FOR MERCY LIKE THE OTHERS.'

'What others?'

'THE FUGITIVES OF AUROS.'

A chill ran through the Doctor. 'Was that you?'

'I GAVE THE ORDER FOR THE REFUGEES TO BE EXTERMINATED,' Dalek X confirmed. 'THE PEOPLE OF AUROS HAD FLED AND LEFT THEIR PLANET IN RUINS. THEY COULD HAVE BEEN SLAVES. INSTEAD THEY CHOSE DEATH.'

'No they didn't. They had no choice at all. You murdered them all in cold blood. An entire colony.'

'DALEKS SHOW NO MERCY.'

'Or common sense, for that matter. Don't you realise that when news of that attack gets back to Earth they will launch a counter-offensive?' The Doctor suddenly stopped speaking and marshalled his thoughts. 'Ah. Now I see. That was the whole point, wasn't it?'

'EARTH COMMAND WILL RESPOND AS YOU HAVE PREDICTED. THE DALEKS WILL BE PREPARED. THE HUMANS WILL BE CRUSHED.'

'It's a bit desperate, though. Or is that the real reason? Are you losing the war with Earth? Is this one last shake of the dice?'

The response was unequivocal: a savage twist of the probe control and a series of wracking, nerve-shredding waves of pain. His brain felt like it was about to burst, but when the torment ended the Doctor was laughing.

'That's it, isn't it?' he panted, his breath ragged and thin. 'You're losing! This whole plan – the slaughter of the Auros fugitives, the attempt to break through the Arkheon Threshold… it's a last-ditch attempt to worm your way out of defeat. Well it won't work!'

He lifted his head and yelled the last four words.

'YOU UNDERESTIMATE OUR POWER,' grated Dalek X. 'YOU DO NOT REALISE WHAT THE ARKHEON THRESHOLD MEANS TO US – AND TO THE REST OF THE UNIVERSE.'

'Well I'm a bit of an expert on time travel and that sort of thing, and I can tell you it won't work. I was there, on Skaro, right at the very beginning when you lot were first slugging it out with the Thals and losing. And I'll be there right at the end, too – and guess what? You lose. Again.'

'IN THIS UNIVERSE,' conceded the Dalek. 'BUT NOT IN THE NEXT.'

Another chill of fear passed through the Doctor. His mind was racing. 'If you think you can use the Arkheon Threshold to change the entire universe, you're mistaken.'

'WE WILL CHANGE HISTORY.'

'But you'd need a massive power source to break down the Threshold. It's a minor fissure in space-time. A dead end. Blink and you'd miss it. What makes you think you've got what it takes?'

Dalek X approached the wall, his eyestalk boring into the Doctor. 'I WILL SHOW YOU.'

The Doctor was released from the mind probe. He sagged for a second as the bonds slid away, but then stood up stiffly, rubbing his wrists. He felt unsteady on his feet but tried not to show it, ruffling his hair back into its usual spiky fringe and clearing his throat. 'Find anything?' he asked, giving the probe a tap with his knuckle.

'THE MIND PROBE CONFIRMS THAT YOU ARE THE TIME LORD KNOWN AS THE DOC–TOR. BUT YOU DO NOT MATCH ANY OF THE PHYSICAL DESCRIPTIONS WE CURRENTLY HOLD IN OUR DATABASE.'

'Oh, shame. Maybe your records aren't as up to date as you think.'

Dalek X swivelled round to glare at him. 'THE MOST LIKELY CONCLUSION IS THAT YOU ARE FROM THE FUTURE.'

'What?' The Doctor looked horrified. 'Don't be ridiculous! As if!'

'IT HAS HAPPENED BEFORE.'

The Doctor pursed his lips. 'Ah, well, yes, now you mention it… but never mind. I hate all that continuity stuff. Tell me all about your plans for the Arkheon Threshold instead. That's much more interesting.'

Dalek X led the Doctor out of the mind-probe chamber into a long, low room with a wide viewing window stretched across the far wall. The room was in darkness, but there was a flickering orange glow coming through the window, as if it overlooked a furnace. The Doctor strolled across to the window and found himself looking out across a vast, subterranean vault. Dark crags were separated by winding, straggling rivers of molten rock. Daleks hovered amid clouds of sulphurous smoke, overlooking a hundred or more human slaves as they toiled in the searing conditions.

'Your own private view of Hades?' asked the Doctor as Dalek X joined him.

'WE ARE CLOSE TO THE MAGNETIC CORE OF ARKHEON,' Dalek X replied. Lit from below by the bubbling red light, his black and gold casing appeared to run with blood.

'Getting humans to do your dirty work again, eh? It's always the same with you lot. Of course, I blame the suckers.'

'EXPLAIN.'

'I mean,' the Doctor said, 'does stealing planetary cores really compensate for having no hands?'

'IF THE DALEKS ARE TO ACHIEVE TOTAL MULTIVERSAL DOMINATION AND TAKE OUR RIGHTFUL PLACE AS THE SUPREME BEINGS THEN WE MUST MASTER TIME TRAVEL,' said Dalek X. 'THAT THE TIME LORDS HAVE FAILED TO ACHIEVE THE SAME GOAL IS A SIGN OF THEIR WEAKNESS AND INFERIORITY.'

'Or perhaps a sign that they don't want to rule the multiverse.'

'THEN THEY WILL CAPITULATE TO THE POWER OF THE DALEKS.'

'Forget it. If future Daleks gained mastery of time travel then you'd already know about it. They'd be here right this minute. In fact we'd all be trundling around in the old Mark Three Travel Machine chanting "exterminate" by now.'

'INCORRECT. DALEK TIME-TRAVEL THEORY STATES THIS IS AN ERRONEOUS VIEWPOINT. MASTERY OF TIME WILL BEGIN WITH THE DESTRUCTION OF THE TIMELORDS AND CONTROL OF THE TIME VORTEX. AND IT WILL END IN THE COMPLETE SUBJUGATION OF THE HUMAN RACE!' For the first time, Dalek X's voice increased in pitch as he grew more excited. 'WITH THE ARKHEON THRESHOLD WE WILL FIND A WAY INTO THE VORTEX!'

Bowman was pushed into a brightly lit laboratory bustling with Daleks. He turned angrily on the Dalek behind him.

'Keep your filthy sucker off me!'

The Dalek threw Bowman backwards. He landed on his back, winded.

'OBEY THE DALEKS!' shouted the metallic shape as it loomed over him.

'Never.'

'STAND!'

'Or what?' asked Bowman from his position on the floor. 'You ain't gonna exterminate me, remember. Not until you've picked this to bits.' He tapped his head.

The Dalek regarded him sourly for a moment but said nothing.

With a humourless smile, Bowman got slowly to his feet. 'I'll stand, but not because you tell me to. I'll stand because this way I'm taller.' He squared his shoulders and stared down the Dalek's eyestalk. 'Just remember that. Cos every human being you ever meet will look down at you.'

The Dalek glided forward. 'PAY ATTENTION TO THIS SCANNER SCREEN.'

Bowman looked at the bank of instruments to which it pointed. There was a circular monitor showing what looked like the surface of Arkheon – frozen, elegant ruins.

The image zoomed in to one particular spot: a heavy, rough-looking spaceship that Bowman recognised only too easily.

'The Wayfarer,' he said aloud, momentarily stunned. It made his heart heave when he saw the old ship, left exactly where it had touched down only hours before. Almost as if it was waiting for him. Silent and patient.

'WE HAVE LOCATED YOUR SPACECRAFT,' the Dalek stated.

Bowman blinked. Was the Dalek expecting him to say thanks? And then a shadow passed over the Wayfarer, and a Dalek saucer came into view on the screen, hovering above the old ship. Bowman automatically identified the saucer: an assault craft, Aggressor-class, small, highly manoeuvrable and heavily armed. As he watched, missiles streaked from the underside of the saucer and struck the Wayfarer amidships. It exploded into a giant, silent fireball and the debris scarred the snow around it for hundreds of metres.

'TARGET DESTROYED,' stated the Dalek.

It felt like a punch to the solar plexus. Bowman had to fight the urge to physically wilt. He took a deep, shuddering breath and stood up straighter, stronger. He looked at the Dalek.

'Think I've never seen a ship blown up before?' he snarled. 'I'm Space Major Jon Bowman. I've been blowing up spaceships and Daleks all my life. When are you going to get it? I'm not scared of you.'

'MOVE!' ordered the Dalek. It was joined by two others, and together they herded Bowman across the laboratory.

There were several benches arranged with clinical precision around the room. They were metal and looked like mortuary slabs. On each of them was a human being, lying face up, head shaved and exposed to the Daleks surrounding them. Some of the Daleks had surgical implements attached to their arms rather than suction cups or claws. Bowman felt physically sick.

'LIE DOWN.'

'This where you cut my head open?'

'LIE DOWN! OBEY!' The Dalek used its sucker arm to force Bowman back against the mortuary slab, so that he was bent awkwardly over it. Suddenly he twisted, lashing out with his foot, but the Dalek barely moved. Two more Daleks joined the first and together they manipulated him, kicking and fighting, onto the bench. Metal straps secured his wrists, ankles and throat.

He struggled, but uselessly. A sudden, wild fear swept through him, the kind of panic he had never experienced in his life before. His chest heaved and sweat broke from every pore. The bench felt hard and unyielding beneath him.

'NOW YOU FEAR THE DALEKS!' observed one of his captors triumphantly.

'PREPARE FOR FULL BRAIN EXCORIATION,' said another.

A surgical Dalek glided over, a small metal saw whirring into life on the end of its arm.

'Go on, then!' roared Bowman. 'Do it! You might as well get your kicks, cos I did the same thing to one of you not so long ago.'

The Daleks ignored him, going about their business with meticulous care.

'I had to scrape him out of his shell like a snail!'

Bowman screamed. 'And you know what? He didn't make a damn sound. And neither will I!'

'So this is the guided tour, is it?' asked the Doctor airily.

Dalek X had taken him down into the granite bowels of Arkheon. Two of the Inquisitor General's blackdomed guard Daleks had joined them. They hung back slightly, gun-sticks trained on the Doctor at all times.

Dalek X glided along a metal walkway installed the length of the cavern. Clouds of evil-smelling steam drifted by. The Doctor strolled along, hands in pockets, gazing all around him like a tourist on a holiday excursion. 'It's a bit stuffy down here,' he said. 'You need to get the heating fixed.'

Despite his casual demeanour, the Doctor was very worried. For a Dalek, the Inquisitor General was one cool customer. He was impossible to taunt. And he seemed to be two steps ahead all the time, out-guessing the Doctor at every turn. The Doctor was waiting for the chance to somehow turn the tables, but it was never coming – or showing any sign of coming.

'I suppose we're pretty close to the core here,' said the Doctor chattily. He tried a few light bounces, his trainers squeaking loudly on the metal walkway. 'I can feel the fluctuations in the magnetic field. Must be playing hell with you.'

'I AM IMMUNE TO THE EFFECTS,' Dalek X replied.

'Well,' said the Doctor. 'Good for you.'

They came to another part of the cavern and turned a corner. The Doctor stopped in his tracks. After a moment he let out a low, appreciative whistle. In front of them was an enormous machine, five storeys high and just as wide, filling the length of a massive tunnel. It curved away into the distance on either side.

'It's a particle accelerator,' said the Doctor, gazing at the towering apparatus. Dalek scientists hovered around the machinery, adjusting and monitoring the complex systems. 'A very big one.'

'THIS IS THE LARGE CHRONON COLLIDER,' explained Dalek X. 'WE WILL BOMBARD DISCRETE PARTICLES OF TIME AGAINST EACH OTHER AT SUPRALIGHT SPEEDS. THE RESULTING HUON SHOWER WILL BE USED TO TRACE THE TEMPORAL PROFILE OF THE ARKHEON THRESHOLD. WE WILL THEN BE ABLE TO ACHIEVE MAGNETIC SEPARATION AND BREAK THROUGH TO THE TIME VORTEX.'

'Oh, that was good,' nodded the Doctor. 'You've been taking gobbledegook lessons. I like it.'

'IT WILL WORK.'

'Ah, well, yes – it might.' The Doctor craned his neck, looking up at the highest parts with a critical eye. 'It's possible, I'll give you that. But it is also insanely dangerous.'

'NOTHING IMPORTANT CAN BE ACHIEVED WITHOUT RISK.'

The Doctor frowned.

'Was that a bit of Dalek philosophy I just heard? You're going soft.'

'YOU CONCEDE THAT OUR PLAN IS VIABLE.'

The Doctor couldn't tell if this was a statement or a query. But it was true, nonetheless. He nodded

thoughtfully, suddenly serious. 'Yes. It will work. But – and it's a big but – you'll need some sort of control element to stabilise it. Then it will work properly.'

'A CONTROL ELEMENT?'

'Yeah.' The Doctor sniffed, scratched his ear, looked away.

'SUCH AS A TARDIS.'

There it was again. Statement or question? The Doctor wasn't sure. He pulled a face, weighed up the factors involved, shrugged. 'Well, yeah. That'd do it. I suppose.'

'SUCH AS YOUR TARDIS?'

A grim look stole across the Doctor's face and his eyes became deep, dark pools. 'No,' he said bluntly. 'Absolutely no.'

'YOU ARE NOT IN A POSITION TO REFUSE THE DALEKS.'

That was definitely a statement. And it was also a fact. But the Doctor shook his head nevertheless. 'No. Sorry. No. N-O spells no. It's not even negotiable.'

'YOU WILL PROVIDE YOUR TARDIS, DOC–TOR!'

'Never.'

'THE DALEKS WILL USE ITS CONTROL SYSTEMS TO ACCESS THE TIME VORTEX!'

'I said never.'

Dalek X moved closer. His voice continued to grate out calm, unhurried statements as if they were facts. 'YOU REQUIRE PERSUASION.'

'I do not.'

'COERCION.'

'Not possible.'

'LET US INVESTIGATE.' Dalek X turned to one of the other Daleks as it glided by. The Dalek almost seem to cringe as the black and gold machine addressed it peremptorily: 'ALERT THE COMMAND DALEK!'

The Doctor was taken back to the detention levels and then into the high-speed lift to the prison control room. He walked out into the busy chamber with Dalek X in tow, as

if they were old buddies. The feeling made the Doctor's skin crawl.

The Command Dalek swivelled hurriedly to face the Inquisitor General. 'YOUR ORDERS HAVE BEEN CARRIED OUT!'

The Doctor had an uneasy feeling. Dalek X glided silently forward and then turned. 'SUMMON THE PRISONERS.'

As the eight of them were walking back into the prison control room- Conan wondered if Kulli had been this way before, but now wasn't the time to ask her that kind of thing, he thought as he quickly saw what must have prompted The Daleks to call them back; The Doctor was standing in the room with a small group of Daleks, including one apparently new Dalek who gave an impression of malice that somehow surpassed every other Dalek they'd seen in this place so far.

"Touma! Conan! Kyon! Sota! Lelouch!," The Doctor said, smiling as he saw them enter the room. "Koral! Cuttin' Edge!"

The companions were more than happy to see that the Doctor was alright as they begin to call him. "Doctor!"

"Are you all right?" the Doctor asked as he was happy to see that they were alright.

"Hi there," Cuttin' Edge said grimly, his expression rapidly souring as he took in the Doctor's position alongside the Daleks. "What's goin' on?," he asked grimly. "You colludin' with this scum now?"

"No," the Doctor replied, with a simplicity of tone that would allow for no argument. "No, I'm not."

"THE DOC-TOR IS REFUSING TO COOPERATE WITH THE DALEKS," the Dalek stated. "THAT POSITION IS ABOUT TO BE REVERSED."

"No," the Doctor said, looking desperately over at the Dalek. "You can't do this..."

"INCORRECT."

"BRING FORWARD THE PRISONERS WHO CAME TO ARKHEON WITH THE DOC-TOR," another Dalek said.

As soon as the order had been obeyed, the two remaining members of the Wayfarer's crew and The Companions were dragged forward, leaving Kulli to collapse to her knees on the floor, silently sobbing but clearly too scared to do anything that might attract the Daleks' attention.

"IF YOU DO NOT COMPLY WITH DALEK INSTRUCTIONS THEN INNOCENT LIVES WILL BE LOST," the new Dalek said. "IT IS YOUR DECISION."

"I won't be bullied into helping you," the Doctor said, staring desperately back at the Dalek. "There's too much at stake!"

"THESE TWO PRISONERS ARE IDENTIFIED AS COMBATANTS," The Dalek said. "THEY EXPECT TO DIE IN THE LINE OF DUTY. THEREFORE THERE IS NO VALUE IN THEIR EXTERMINATION."

The companions didn't need to be a genius to know that the fact that they'd only referred to Koral and Cuttin' Edge with that last statement to know that the distinction between them and those two couldn't be good news...

Then the apparently new Dalek came up towards them, its plunger extended outwards so that it was practically in their face, and I had a sinking feeling that things were just about to become a whole lot worse.

"ARTRON ENERGY RESIDUE DETECTED," The Dalek said, rolling back and lowering its plunger as it studied me. "YOU ARE COMPANIONS OF THE TIME LORD KNOWN AS THE DOCTOR, AND YOU ARE NON-COMBATANTS. YOUR VALUE AS A HOSTAGE IS MORE SIGNIFICANT."

"No!" the Doctor suddenly screamed from behind them, the sound of the speaker leaving them feeling like their heart had just been replaced with a block of ice as Kuli was forced forward from her original position to stand beside them; evidently, while she might not be a companion of The Doctor just like them, Kuli's 'non-combatant' status was clearly enough for The Daleks.

Conan gave Kuli a hug- the only thing that he felt that he could do in this situation- as Daleks from all around the room began to line up in front of us. Looking at The Doctor one last time, The Companions lives suddenly flash before their eyes as they begin to remember all of those adventures that they have had with The Doctor. Then The Companions looked towards each other as they say their final goodbyes silently with a look that was well understood by each other as they nodded in acceptance.

While all of this was happening, Conan was remembering someone in his life as he begins to say silently in his thoughts.

"Sorry, Haibara. No, sorry, Shiho, guess this is the end of the line for me."

Kyon was also remembering someone in his life as he begins to say silently in his thoughts.

"Sorry, Haruhi. Guess I won't be able to see you or The SOS Brigade anytime soon."

Sota was also remembering someone in his life as he begins to say silently in his thoughts.

"Sorry, Setsuna. No, sorry, Yuna, guess I won't be able to see you again after all of this."

Lelouch was also remembering someone in his life as he begins to say silently in his thoughts.

"Sorry, Shirley. Guess it's the end of the line for me. I wish I could see you and Nunnally one last time."

Touma was also remembering someone in his life as he begins to say silently in his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Rika. I guess I won't be able to keep my promise to you after all."

They all closed their eyes as they begin to prepare themselves mentally for what was about to come.

"EX-!"

"All right!" the Doctor suddenly yelled. "All right! All right. Stop! I'll do it."

As the five companions opened their eyes, they saw the new Dalek turn to look at the Doctor, their second father staring intently back at The Dalek.

"I'll give you the TARDIS," the Doctor said, his hands in his pockets as though he needed to have them somewhere else to stop himself doing anything he shouldn't, "but there are conditions."

"NOT VALID."

"Wait. It's important."

Still staring at the Dalek, the Doctor took a deep breath before he began to speak again, his voice shaking with fury with every word that passed his lips. "I'm giving you everything here. All of history opened up like a book for you to rip the pages out and start again! The very least you can do is hear me out!"

"CONTINUE."

"My TARDIS requires a crew of six to function properly," the Doctor said. "Together with myself, I need Touma, Conan, Kyon, Sota, Lelouch, Koral, Cuttin' Edge, Major Bowman, and the girl."

"THE GIRL DID NOT ARRIVE HERE WITH YOU-" Dalek X began.

"My companions and I can teach her what she needs to know; it won't take long, and it will make everything else go a lot more smoothly," the Doctor interjected, his gaze still fixed on the Dalek. "Hurt her, and she's just one of many to you; let her help us, and she can be a lot more use to you."

As Conan held the shaking Kuli, he and the rest of his fellow companions hoped that The Doctor had some kind of plan for dealing with The Daleks before they reached that stage of events; they weren't quite sure Kuli had the nerve to do anything when Daleks were present after she'd been given the chance to break down like this...

"NO FURTHER CONDITIONS," the Dalek said, turning to address another Dalek after the Doctor nodded in response. "RELEASE THE HUMAN PRISONER AND HAVE HIM BROUGHT HERE!"

"I OBEY!" the Dalek said, heading for another door as the new Dalek- who it was becoming increasingly clear was some kind of high-up in the Dalek hierarchy- turned back to the Doctor.

"TELL ME THE LOCATION OF YOUR TARDIS!" it said.

"Hurala," the Doctor replied simply.

"PLANETOID KX-NINE IN THE LASRON SOLAR REGION!"

"Of course you'd know it; that's where this all started after all."

"WE WILL PROCEED IMMEDIATELY. PREPARE THE EXTERMINATOR FOR DEPARTURE."

"There is just one other thing..." the Doctor began.

"NO MORE CONDITIONS!"

"This isn't a condition," the Doctor corrected the Dalek as politely as he could. "It's just a word of advice. The TARDIS is actually grounded at the moment."

"EXPLAIN!" the Dalek said (I only just managed to stop myself smiling at this new turn of events; it was a subtle little lie, but at least this made it obvious that the Doctor did have something in mind, given that the TARDIS had been perfectly fine when we left the ship).

"Its spatial motivator is all to cock; why else d'you think I left it on Hurala?" the Doctor clarified. "It'll be fine for what you want, but you'll need to remove the time rotor."

"SUMMON THE TEMPORAL RESEARCH TEAM," the Dalek said, turning to address its fellows. "IT CAN MAKE THE NECESSARY TECHNICAL ARRANGEMENTS ON HURALA."

As the command Dalek headed off to continue issuing orders, the Doctor walked over to join our small group.

"Crew members?" Koral asked, frowning at the Doctor.

"Don't mention it," the Doctor murmured, before he crouched down to join The Companions. "Who's she?"

"Kuli," Conan replied, looking up at the Doctor with a slight smile. "She was assigned to our work group; her mother...well..."

"I see," the Doctor said, the sadness in his eyes clearly showing his understanding of what I was trying not to say in front of the girl as he smiled at her.

"Hello, Kuli- and that's a nice name, by the way-, I'm the Doctor; I'm a friend of Conan's."

"Hi..." Kuli sniffed, looking up and smiling weakly at the Doctor.

"There you go," the Doctor said, smiling back at her. "Chin up, eh, Kuli? We'll get you through this..."

"MOVE!" the Dalek commander said as a door opened, prompting us all to glance in its direction just in time to see Bowman walk through the door. "WAIT IN THE CENTRE OF THE ROOM!"

"Bowman!" Koral said, suddenly seemingly revitalised by this proof that he was still with us.

"Didn't think you'd get rid of me that easy, did you?" Bowman asked with a grim smile.

"Are you OK?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah," Bowman replied, the grim expression on his face becoming even grimmer as he looked at the Doctor. "They pushed me around a bit but they never got as far as the knives. I take it you're to blame?"

"He's cut a deal with the Daleks," Cuttin' Edge said, glaring over at the Doctor. "Like some kinda collab-"

"Like a man who is trying to get us somewhere where we can actually do something to help in this situation," Lelouch interrupted, glaring over at the other man resolutely. "You don't have to like it, but if it weren't for the Doctor, we'd just be stuck here-!"

"And we're really going to get anywhere just because we're not stuck in some massive prison?" Cuttin' Edge asked. "We're movin' from a planet to a cell on a ship; that's not that much of an improvement-!"

"PROCEED TO LANDING PORT!" a Dalek yelled, cutting off whatever else Cuttin' Edge might have to say.

"MOVE!" another Dalek yelled, taking up position behind us as we were forced to advance out of the room, heading back to the platform to take them back to the surface.

Looking back on the events of the day or so that had elapsed since they left Arkheon, The Companions still found it slightly hard to believe that they'd managed to get out of that whole mess that they'd found on Hurala with only losing Cuttin' Edge as the cost.

Admittedly, the whole situation after they got off the Dalek ship- during which they spent most of the time trying to help the others comfort Kuli as much as they could; there was only so much that they could do to help a girl they'd never met before a few hours ago but they as always refused to give up and were just as stubborn as always.

The moment when Cuttin' Edge had sacrificed himself to give the rest of them time to run away from the Daleks by attacking one of them while we were still on the stairs was something they thought they'd always honor and remember- the fact that he was able to grab a Dalek while another one was shooting at him was particularly impressive considering that Dalek weaponry was being specifically designed to cause pain, even if those moments they spent hurrying through the ventilation system with Kuli in a desperate attempt to reach The TARDIS without The Daleks finding us were more of a blur than anything else.

They still weren't certain if the key the Doctor had given them had actually done anything to help their chances to escape, they trusted him of course, but the perception filter can only do so much in the long run since they were dealing with the Daleks, but by some miracle, they finally made it to the TARDIS, the seven of them waiting inside the ship- after Conan managed to calm Kuli down after her initial reaction to the interior- before the Doctor and Koral came to the ship.

After The Doctor had taken a quick hop to pick up Bowman from the lower levels of the base, we'd departed from the planet just as something had apparently exploded outside The TARDIS, the blast was so powerful that the entire ship had been apparently knocked over at least- we'd definitely not been standing at the usual ninety degrees for a few moments there- before The Doctor had regained control and set the coordinates for Earth in the present.

Since then, the five companions have been sitting outside the large building that apparently housed Earth Command Headquarters, with Lelouch becoming interested that the humanity of this universe had managed to get their act together long enough to form a unified world government, as he begins to wonder what that meant for him and his fellow companions in terms of cultural customs, watching the park outside the building as the various children played with their friends, a world of innocence so far removed from what they had just seen a mere hours ago on the front lines of the Dalek War that this was almost hard to believe that this was the same time. Judging by Kuli's wide eyes and hesitant smile as she sat alongside Conan, she was finding it equally hard to believe as well, even if she still seemed slightly reluctant to actually go out and join them.

"It's moments like this that make it all worthwhile, really," the Doctor said, smiling as he sat alongside Kuli and Conan, staring out at the various flying car-like vehicles- it was good to know that some 'future stereotypes' would come to pass- and distant spaceships flying through Earth's sky.

"The moments of peace in between the instances of mind-numbing terror?," Lelouch said, looking teasingly over at the Doctor as he spoke.

"Well, I-" the Doctor began awkwardly.

"Don't worry about it," Touma said, holding up a hand to halt whatever negative spin he might have been about to put on what Lelouch had just said. "Trust me, we...had a couple of close calls back before you picked us up that make some of the things we've run into practically relaxing by comparison."

"Besides," Conan continued, indicating the scene before us with a smile, "when it gives us a chance to see something like this, we can't exactly complain about minor details like occasionally poor company, can we?"

"That's not including me, right?" Kulli asked, looking over at him with a slightly apprehensive manner.

"No, of course not; it's been great meeting you," Conan reassured her with his hands raised as a gesture of assurance, smiling back at her as she grinned at him in return." Daleks, on the other hand... not exactly who you want to run into on a good day, are they? "

"Not if it's a day like this, anyway," The Doctor said, smiling as he studied the world before us, nodding in approval as another couple of spaceships flew off towards the upper atmosphere. " That's what I like about you lot, really; for all your faults, when it counts, you really manage to come through."

For a moment, they sat in silence, until Kuli spoke at last, a slight sniff to her voice as she looked sadly at the park.

"I just..." she said, swallowing slightly as her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. "I wish Mum was here..."

Looking at the Doctor, The Companions knew the intensity that was in his eyes as he looked at this little girl between them, this little girl who, like him, had lost all of her family in such a short space of time...

"I know what you mean," the Doctor said at last, moving over to sit down beside Kuli, a sympathetic smile on his face as he looked at the young girl. "When I first started travelling after I lost my family, one of the things I most regretted was that I'd never be able to share what I was seeing with them... but you do have something I'd have given anything to have."

"What?" Kuli asked.

"A mother who loved you," The Doctor replied, smiling at the young girl. "My family... well, they weren't bad, but they just didn't understand me; from what you've told us, all that mattered to your mother was your happiness, and that gives you something that you can always remember even now."

"Good thing to remember," another voice said from behind us; glancing back, they weren't entirely surprised to see that Bowman and Koral were walking towards us, although Bowman's scars and crutches made it clear that he still had a long way to go before he was back to normal. "That's one thing the Daleks can't take away from us."

"Our willingness to help each other for more than just the sake of warfare," the Doctor finished, smiling in approval at Bowman. "Good thing to remember."

"I try," Bowman replied, his arm linking with Koral's as he looked at the Doctor and them with a slight smile. "I thought you'd all be long gone by now."

"Nah," the Doctor replied, indicating the scene in front of us. "There's something about Earth. I just can't seem to stay away."

"Come on, what's the real reason?" Bowman continued. "Don't tell us you weren't tempted to just take off in that TARDIS thing. What's the real reason?"

"I dunno," the Doctor said. "Unfinished business, I suppose. How did it go?"

"Pretty good," Bowman replied. "The Dalek fleet is in complete disarray. The loss of the Exterminator has knocked them right back, along with any plans to use time-travel technology. The Supreme Dalek's Temporal Research Team bit the dust along with everything else on Hurala."

"That's good," the Doctor replied "And the prison?"

"Earth Command has a squadron of ships on its way to seize Arkheon and liberate the prisoners," Bowman replied.

Glancing over at the Doctor, they shared a smile with him at that news; even if The Daleks themselves weren't going to be defeated any time soon in this timeline, at least we could ensure that nobody else would have to endure what the nine of them had endured in that nightmarish mine.

"That could be quite a battle," The Doctor added, although his slight smile as he looked over at our new friends.

"Yeah," Bowman replied.

"They asked Bowman to lead the mission," Koral added, pulling him closer to her with a warm smile. "But he refused."

"I'm too old for that kinda thing now," Bowman said, a slightly regretful tone to his voice even if he didn't exactly appear to be that broken up about it. "That's what Koral says, anyway. Besides, I've got better things to be doing with my time."

"He's taking me to meet his parents," Koral clarified.

"Oh!" The Companions paid attention with interest.

"You old dog," The Doctor said, a slight laugh to his tone.

"Gotta start tying up some loose ends," Bowman said. "Earth Command's given me a full pardon. Seems I've pulled their fat out of the fire again. Now it's time to see my folks."

"I'm glad," the Doctor said.

I briefly thought about asking if anyone had been able to get in touch with whatever family the other members of the Wayfarer crew might have had on Earth- from what I'd heard Koral was the last of her kind, but there were still three other people who might have left someone behind-, but the solemn expression on the Doctor, Bowman and Koral's faces told me that they were already thinking about that; the fact that they hadn't mentioned it was only because it wasn't necessary rather than because they didn't care.

"Well, talking of loose ends... I've a few of my own to tie up before I get the TARDIS back on the right time track," the Doctor began, before he reached over to place his hand on Kuli's shoulder. "And among those loose ends is the fact that this young woman here needs a place to live..."

For a moment there was an awkward silence around the bench as we exchanged glances with each other, nobody clearly sure what the appropriate thing was to say after the Doctor's last 'offer', before Kuli broke the silence.

"Can I...stay with you?" she asked, looking uncertainly at Koral and Bowman.

After a few seconds of silence, Koral responded happily.

"Of course, little one."

A part of the five companions was slightly relieved that she hadn't asked if she could come with them and the Doctor in the TARDIS because they all knew how dangerous their lives are in the long run as they not only run into danger in the TARDIS but also back in their own universes and that they couldn't exactly have one of their own take care of her due to the fact that it would raise so many questions and problems among their family, friends, and love ones back home, but on the other hand, they could not deny that they would miss her dearly since they might not be able to see her again due to being from different meta-time zones.

Here on Earth, while she was clearly just as much in awe of the planet as she was in awe of the TARDIS, it was the kind of amazement that anyone felt when they realized that they were somewhere incredible and safe... and, after seeing her mother die in front of her, they could definitely appreciate Kulli's desire to find somewhere safe to stay.

"You'll be fine," the Doctor was saying to Koral and Bowman as he shook their hands.

"Thanks," Touma said, as he and the rest of his fellow companions were giving them a handshake of their own before I smiled down at Kuli. "And thanks for being there for us back on Arkheon."

"But you were all there for me..." Kuli began, looking at me in confusion.

"We were there for each other, Kuli," Conan said, smiling warmly back at her innocent confusion at Touma's attempted praise. "Such little things like who helped who more aren't that important."

After Conan gave the little girl one last hug, who in turn gave him a hug that was very tight as she begins to realize that this may be the last time that she might see him.

"We'll I ever see you all again?" Kuli asked while Conan had a little hesitant look on his face as he said.

"Hmm… Maybe. You can never really tell when it comes to our lives in The TARDIS, but know that I and my friends won't ever forget all of the time that we spent together on Arkheon and that you, my friends, and I would always be friends wherever and whenever we are."

"I'll miss you." Kuli said as she said while looking at Conan with trembling lips.

"I'll miss you too, Kuli." Conan said as he looked at the girl with a comforting look of assurance.

After this heartwarming scene, the Doctor and the five companions then headed back for The TARDIS, with The Doctor giving Bowman and Koral one last slightly ironic salute, but before they stepped through the doors, Bowman began to asked a question towards Conan who noticed that he was being called as he turns around to look at the man.

"Wait! kid. There's something that's been bugging me ever since we first met in Hurala, you always seemed to act so smart and mature for someone your age, couple along with the fact that you weren't exactly as terrified as a kid your age should be when we were facing the Daleks throughout all of this mess, which was definitely not natural, so who the hell are you anyway because I have suspicions that you're not just some ordinary kid?"

It was right then and there that Conan made his signature smirk, along with his fellow companions giving knowing looks at each other, as he begins to say the three most famous words that people of all ages had known him as in his shrunken form.

"Conan Edogawa, Detective."

"Detective?" Bowman said as he, along with Koral and Kuli (who had her eyes widen in sparkles as she heard about detectives from her mother who told her stories about Sherlock Holmes), was a little dumbstruck as he said. "Didn't know there were still detectives around, but aren't you a little too young to be a detective."

"Oh! I don't know, what do you think?," Conan redirected his question back at Bowman who smirked as well.

"Well, Detective, it's been an honor fighting alongside you," Bowman said as he begins to salute him.

"As to you," Conan said as he returns back the salute with his own.

Then he, his fellow companions, and the Doctor promptly went for the door, sealing them from behind as they headed for the console.

"So...where to now, Doctor?" Touma asked The Doctor, as he begins to activate the dematerialization function. "Back to our timeline?"

"Yep; just got one or two things to attend to here first, and then we can be off back home," the Doctor told me with a reassuring smile.

It was a forgotten world.

Dusty, torn and left in darkness. Nothing and no one ever came here.

Deep below the surface of Hurala, beneath the vast black crater where the Lodestar station had once stood, all was now quiet. The carnage was silent, and there was not a sign of life.

But deeper even than that, down in the caves, in a crevice beneath the mangled wreckage of the astronic fuel silo, was a clutter of black and gold debris. It was burnt and twisted and split, and it was all that remained of Dalek X. The life-support system was smashed, the containment tank fractured. Wires trailed towards the living creature where it lay on the rocks, twitching feebly in the darkness.

A light pulsed in the shadows. the Dalek's misty eye widened fractionally, disbelievingly. A loud wheezing and groaning noise filled the little cave as an old blue police box materialized in the gloom.

As The Companions stepped out of the TARDIS doors just behind the Doctor, who was wearing his long coat, they were momentarily confused at the sight of wreckage that was before them as they were fairly sure that it had been part of the equipment at the Hurala fuel silo when it was still intact, but then they saw the smashed and twisted casing of what could only be Dalek X lying a short distance away from us, and they realized what The Doctor was doing here.

In a dark and disturbing way, they were actually rather impressed at the amount of damage that Dalek X had sustained; considering that Bowman had only been armed with what sounded to them like a futuristic nail gun rather than anything particularly elaborate, the idea that he'd done this to Dalek X despite The Dalek force field was almost disturbingly impressive. The Dalek casing had been virtually smashed to pieces from the damage it had sustained when the faculty exploded, while only a few pieces of metal were large enough to positively identify the metal as having originally formed a Dalek casing in the first place. Lying in the heart of the pile was the pitiful-looking form of the purple Dalek mutant, its massive yellow eye looking weakly up at The TARDIS door as The Companions and Doctor and stared back at it.

'YOU… LOCATED… MY… TRANSMISSION…' the Dalek croaked.

'Yeah, that was easy.' the Doctor sat down on a rock.

'But there's no one else listening. You're finished. Arkheon is no more. The prisoners have been freed and the Daleks there all wiped out. Thanks to Space Major Bowman, of course. Earth Command is on the offensive. Your lines are in disarray. You're beaten.' He paused. 'Just thought you'd like to know.'

'THE SUPREME DALEK…'

'Oh, he's given you up for dead. Besides, I doubt he'd be in a forgiving mood if you did happen to turn up after all this. You're better off down here to be honest.'

'THE ARKHEON THRESHOLD?'

'Sealed. One of the advantages of being a Time Lord with a TARDIS. It's nice to be able to tie these loose ends up sometimes. The temporal fissure is gone. I put a stitch in time.'

'VERY… THOROUGH. YOUR VICTORY IS… TOTAL.'

'Almost.' the Doctor pursed his lips and frowned.

'There's still you, of course. Still here, still alive. You certainly know how to hang on, I'll give you that.'

'THE ASTRONIC RADIATION WILL KEEP ME ALIVE…'

'Yeah, I thought there was a smell.' the Doctor wrinkled his nose. 'Never mind. It won't do you much

good, trapped down here. There's a communications seal around Hurala, part of the radiation quarantine. Five thousand years at least before anyone will hear your cries for help. But neither you nor your batteries will last that long, I'm afraid.'

'I WILL FIND A WAY.' Dalek X glared at the Doctor. 'I WILL SURVIVE! THE DALEKS ARE NEVER DEFEATED!'

The five companions couldn't believe it; the thing in front of them had been reduced to a state that resembled a mutilated grounded jellyfish if they had to compare it to anything from their Earths, and it still refused to give up after all this?

The Doctor shook his head. 'You can never see it, can you? You just don't get it. Daleks are always defeated. Always. Because you never learn. You never accept the simple truth – that every other life form in the multiverse is better than you.'

"INCORRECT! DALEKS ARE THE SUPREME BEINGS!" Dalek X retorted.

"There's not a life form in the multiverse that would volunteer to become a Dalek," the Doctor countered. "Doesn't that tell you anything? Well, doesn't it?"

"Seriously," Lelouch added, looking pointedly at the thing in front of them, "you can't even feel anything like that, from what The Doctor's told us; why would anyone want to spend an eternity trapped in that trash bin that you call a casing?"

Dalek X did not reply.

Lelouch and the others weren't entirely surprised when his inquiry was met with nothing but silence, as they knew that The Daleks would never surrender even to their very last breath. The one tortured Dalek from the Wayfarer had given them proof of that.

The Doctor stood up and turned to leave along with his fellow companions.

'DOC–TOR!' gasped the Dalek. 'YOUR FAILURE TO DESTROY ME… WILL PROVE TO BE YOUR DOWNFALL. I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN…!'

'Yeah, well, good luck with that.' The Doctor paused in the TARDIS doorway, silhouetted in the golden light. His face was stony. 'Cos I'll be waiting.'

The TARDIS door clicked shut behind him and then the police box faded away.

And Dalek X was left to stare, unblinking, into the darkness.

With that, the Doctor and the five companions turned around and closed the door behind them, walking up to the TARDIS main console and activating the necessary switches to send the ship back into The Time Vortex.

"So... that's it?" Sota asked, looking inquiringly at him. "We're finished here?"

"Yep; just got to seal up the last of the crack left by the Arkheon Threshold, and we can get back to our own meta-time," the Doctor replied, nodding at me with a gleeful expression.

The five companions all sighed in relief at that as they have had enough of The Daleks for one adventure to last a lifetime.

"If I were to be completely honest, I think I'd rather prefer being pranked by Milly and get scolded by Shirley again than go back to dealing with The Daleks." Lelouch said a semi-serious tone.

"Well, your in luck, Lelouch, after we seal the last crack, we can go stop by your universe first since I have a feeling that Nunnally and the others would want you back in Ashford in order to explain your absence," the Doctor said as he works on the main console as he flips the switches here and there.

Lelouch smirked at that. "Humph, I've been delaying the inevitable long enough Doctor. I should probably go back and checked on Nunnally and Shirley, making sure that they're both alright."

And so, the Doctor and the five companions went through the rift, as they managed to seal it with the TARDIS, so that no one from this side to their side would ever get suck into this problem like they did ever again as the five companions go back to their family, friends, and love ones in their own meta-time.

And this incident would be one of the major factors that would forever influenced their respective journeys, developing their characters in a way that could influence the realm of tomorrow.

ED Song:

Kono Yo no Hate de Koi wo Utau Shoujo YU NO Ending 2 Full

Characters:

The Tenth Doctor - A: David Tennant

Touma Kamijou - A: Atsushi Abe

Shinichi Kudo - VA: N/A

/Conan Edogawa - VA: Minami Takayama

Kyon - VA: Tomokazu Sugita

Sota Mizushino - VA: Daiki Yamashita

Lelouch Lamperouge/Lelouch vi Britannia - VA: Jun Fukuyama

Dalek X/Dalek Inquisitor General - A: Nicholas Briggs

The Daleks - A: Nicholas Briggs

TV/EU Reference:

** Imperial Moon (novel)

** The Ancestor Cell (novel)