Chapter Two – Dalek Queen
The Doctor notices that the tunnel rises in elevation and soon he emerges in a building above ground.
In front of him is a pale white woman, sitting in an office chair surrounded by tables. Her hair had been recently cut because, although not exactly bald, her hair only shows about a week's worth of fuzz A long line of individuals in interesting costumes is waiting to see her. Some have better quality costumes than others but most of them are easily recognizable. In fact they all are. They are dressed as every type of being The Doctor has ever encountered. From Autons to Zygons; Axons to an individual dressed all in black and wearing a sign that said "Vashta Nerada", every person in line is dressed as a recognizable character, but not necessarily from this world or even this quantum.
"Um Dalaek boy, what is your designation?"
"Slash, Slash, identifying…"
"STOP, wait. OK…uh…Oh…Dalek, what is your designation?"
"I am Dalek!"
"OK, how can I identify you? No, wait! … Slash, slash, how can I identify you?"
"Slash, slash. Uh, I'm only a drone. Just call me Dalek, dummy."
"Ok, good, fantastic. Dalek, I suppose that she is the Queen, yes? What is she doing? Why this line of petitioners?"
"The Queen governs the Daleks and the non Daleks. The non Daleks are expendable but are useful. The Dalek race must survive. The Dalek race must grow."
The Doctor takes a quick scan of the chamber with his sonic screwdriver. "And these non Dalek are useful in continuing to grow the Dalek race."
"That is correct. Non Daleks are resources that are expendable but resources should be used, not wasted."
"Well, you lot learned something since Skarow then, eh?"
Dalek looks inquisitively at the Doctor while the bobby, who had approached and spoken to the Queen, turns and announces, "The Queen will see The Doctor now!" A scattered murmuring arises from the line of petitioners as they shuffle backwards. Several appear to press against the wall in shock and perhaps fear. The Queen rolls back from the tables and surveys The Doctor from toe to head as he is lead forward,
"Why have you chosen to commit suicide?"
The Doctor grins and shakes his head in amusement. "Uh…Slash, slash… I am not suicidal…" His grin fades as he observes the bugged eyes of the public. His oratory with the Queen had been distracted when the room pressure changed as every person in it aside from himself, audibly and simultaneously gasped. Pulling his hand aside his mouth and leaning to the bobby, he asked, "I performed some sort of faux pas didn't I? Slash, sla…"
"Slash, Slash. No one," the bobby broadcasts indignantly, "addresses the Queen, out of character!"
"Slash, Slash, …but rules are stated out of character."
"Slash, slash, yes."
"Slash, slash, but they apply both in and out of character."
"Slash, slash, yes."
"Slash, slash, then why state them out of character at all?"
The bobby takes a glance at the Queen. "Slash, slash, because …"
"Silence," commands the Queen.
"Ah yes, I will not address YOU out of character again, Queen." Another gasp goes up in the room. But with a sweep of the Queen's eyes, any plans for murmurs are squelched. Majestically, she rises from her chair and nods towards the Doctor.
"Enough games Doctor. What exactly is your mission?
"I don't have a mission. Especially not today, I had planned to take a holiday, but my transportation had other ideas. Then I was arrested for being suicidal and now find myself before the one and only, that I know of anyway, Dalek Queen. So I was wondering, why exactly would I be suicidal?"
The queen sat slowly and smiled, "You would most likely be suicidal, because you choose to be The Doctor."
"Because I choose to be… but I am The Doctor, I do not have to choose to be."
The murmurs started again from the sidelines.
The Queen continues "But, could you attempt to be someone else."
"You mean pretend to be another person, or … character."
"Yes, and were you to chose to be you, Doctor, you would choose to be sentenced to death. Therefore, you are suicidal."
The Doctor did not grin. "Oh Queen, you are mistaken. I have chosen to be myself several times. In addition, I have faced a death sentence more times that I can count which is much higher than you can count. Simply choosing to be myself does not mean that I have a death wish. I am not suicidal. For me to be suicidal I would have to believe that you are capable of actually killing me. And many Daleks with superior technology and much better armor than you have tried and failed."
The Queen, raises her hand as the Doctor finishes his rant and waves it dismissively.
"Whatever. Shoot him."
"Come with me Doctor." The bobby replaces the handcuffs on The Doctor and secures them tightly. "You have been found guilty of being suicidal by role-playing as The Doctor. The sentence is death, to be carried out without delay. Slash, slash, immediately after execution, you are to report to the telepathic ministry prior to login processing."
"First things first, Constable, but you appear to have them out of order. I can respect that. Uh, Slash, Slash, why would you tell me where to report to after I expire? Wouldn't that be someone else's responsibility?"
"Slash, Slash, absolutely not. You have wasted too much of my day already. Just go get certified, reboot your login, and choose a more suitable character.
The bobby opens a door and allows The Doctor to pass. "After you."
"Thank you," The Doctor replies passing through the door and returning the bobby's handcuffs again. "So, slash, slash, certification is granted by the telepathic ministry which will ensure that I am…"
"Slash, Slash, mentally stable of course. After all, you chose to be The Doctor. What character did the Queen assign you at login anyway?"
"She did not assign me a character. I have always been The Doctor."
The bobby stopped in the center of a corridor and placed a tag on The Doctors coat. "Bang, you're dead. Slash,slash, third door on the right. Have a nice day."
The Doctor looked down at the tag and read the word 'Deleted'.
"Wait…Slash, Slash wait." The bobby continues back the way he came.
"Oi, then I guess you haven't heard about regeneration then." He says quietly as he rips the tag from his coat. "Time to get some answers." Turning, the Doctor walks the other direction looking for another way out.
Eventually he hears footsteps. The Doctor cautiously peeks around the corner to spy a man dressed in garb of course and resembling a Macra with large claws made of cardboard and gardening tools. The Doctor steps around the corner and strides over to him. "Slash, slash Excuse me. Can you direct me to the library?"
The man smiles at him. "Slash, slash , do you mean the historical halls?"
The Doctor nods an affirmation.
"Why it's in archives of course, six floors up in the east wing. But, why would you be headed there?"
"Just doing some research for a new character."
"Oh? Must be in support of theQueensservice, aye?"
The Doctor laughed, "Well can you think of anyone else who assigns characters?"
"True. You know, I think she only made me a Macra because she needed more to gather fuel."
"Well that makes sense, because there is a kind of gas that is vital to the Marca, but last time I met them, they were brainwashing others to do the work for them."
"Ya, I asked about that in consultation. They said if I could get someone else to do the work for me, to go right ahead." He waves a few claws around in front of him and stares at The Doctor while speaking in an unnatural gravely voice. "You will work for me. I am your master."
The Doctor turns and walks away. "I am immune to your brainwashing techniques, Macra."
The Macra resumes his commute. "Slash, Slash, had to try. Have a nice day."
Continuing further down the hall, the Doctor finally sees the universal sign for stairs. He pauses for a moment to ensure that he has not missed a universal sign for elevator. Pushing the door and finding it sealed, he whips out his sonic and makes quick work of the lock. Pushing through the door, he looks up at the dimly lit and poorly painted stairwell. "Six floors, fantastic," he sighs.