Act I, scene ii
-~- Save the Daleks -~-
It might have been a microsecond after he'd rematerialised or it might have been a million years, but the Doctor regained consciousness in stages. First he became aware that he was lying on a flat, metallic surface that was vibrating beneath him. He realised in that instant that he was aboard a spaceship in flight.
Next his hearing returned. He heard the distant hum of atmospheric generators and of engines several decks below. He could smell nothing, aside from the dull tang of recycled air, and he could taste something metallic. A wave of pain struck him as he tried to sit up. He groaned, and reached a hand up to his forehead.
Everything felt distant, as though he was perceiving the memory of a touch or movement rather than touch or movement itself.
Slowly, memories came back to him.
He remembered falling asleep in the TARDIS, dreaming that he was in Paris, that he was on Skaro, that he was asleep on the beach in Brighton. He remembered the cowled figure, telling him to travel to Skaro. He remembered meeting Darla von Karlsen, of the Sirius von Karlsens, and learning about her missing daughter.
"Daleks," he said to himself, and his eyes snapped open as the fight or flight response took hold and wiped away the last of his residual transmat dementia. He was alone in a featureless white room, but he now recognised the pitch of the engines and the frequency of the vibrations in the deck.
He was aboard the Dalek ship that had surprised him and Darla on Skaro.
Why hadn't they exterminated him yet? Hadn't they learnt by now that if they kept him alive, he'd only find a way to defeat them? At that thought, he allowed himself a grim smile.
He felt around in the pocket of his jacket for his sonic screwdriver, only to realise that the Daleks had been clever enough to disarm him. Indeed, he wasn't carrying anything, not even his psychic paper or the TARDIS key.
"The TARDIS," he said to himself, remembering that he'd left it on Skaro. He hoped the radioactive acid rain that was relentlessly lashing that dead world wouldn't damaged his oldest friend too badly.
He sighed and went over to the other side of the chamber. As he approached, a section of the wall retracted inwards a few millimetres and then slid upwards. The Doctor had to control a gasp as he saw a beautiful vista stretching out before him.
He was staring at the velvety blue-black of space, studded with the distant, glimmering lights of thousand upon thousands of stars. He didn't recognise that stretch of space right away, and didn't have time to think about it in any great depth when he realised that, situated between his position and the starfield, rotating slowly in the vacuum of space, were dozens and dozens of Dalek spaceships, just like the one that had captured him on Skaro.
He shuddered.
Here he was, trapped and helpless in the middle of a huge Dalek battle fleet. What were they doing? Where were they going? What did they want with him?
"Hello?" he called, spinning around. "Hello! Is anyone listening?"
As if in answer, a larger section of the wall slid inwards and then up, revealing a wide, tall doorway. Still wearing her purple cloak, with her cowl pushed back and genuine terror in her eyes, Darla von Karlsen entered the Doctor's cell, followed by a pair of Daleks.
"Darla," the Doctor said by way of greeting, his tone guarded. "Still alive, I see."
"Doctor," she said in response, and the Doctor noted the fear in her liltingly-accented voice. "I'm sorry. I should never have brought you to Skaro."
"It wasn't your fault," he assured her, before one of the Daleks interrupted their brief conversation.
"Silence!" the Dalek ordered, and moved menacingly towards Darla. She stepped further into the room, closer to the Doctor. "You will cease all unnecessary conversation!"
"How much trouble am I in?" the Doctor asked the Daleks as he stepped towards Darla, putting himself between them and her.
"You will tell him the situation," the other Dalek told Darla, its eyestalk studying her intently. The tall woman blanched and shuddered involuntarily. With that, both of the Daleks withdrew from the chamber. The door sealed shut behind them.
The Doctor immediately rounded on Darla. "Tell me what's going on. Tell me everything, leave nothing out. Even the smallest thing could be vitally important."
Darla nodded, but didn't speak. Looking utterly terrified, she was shaking and her cheeks were streaked with dried tears. She frowned as though thinking about where to start.
"Darla!" the Doctor said, interrupting her thoughts. "I need you to speak. What happened on Skaro after the Daleks transmatted me away?"
She swallowed. "They… they told me that I had been part of their plan from the beginning. That they had used me to lure you to Skaro, just like you said. I swear I didn't know. I swear it!"
The Doctor's hearts melted at the sight of the woman's desperation. "I know, Darla, I know you didn't. They've been manipulating for months now."
He helped her off her shaky feet, and she sat uncomfortably on the cell floor. She hadn't stopped shaking, and the Doctor stepped away for a moment so she could collect herself. Usually, he'd be pressing for information, but so much about Darla reminded him of Amy even beyond the superficial cosmetic traits the two women shared. Darla was a mother, separated from her daughter the way Amy had been separated from River.
The Doctor determined, in that moment, to reunite mother and daughter if at all possible.
"Doctor," Darla said, her voice cutting into his thoughts. "She's alive, Doctor. Hanna. The Daleks have her, but she's still alive."
The Doctor turned on her again, arching an eyebrow. "How do you know that, Darla? Did they tell you?"
Darla swallowed and shook her head, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. "No, they showed me. She's somewhere here, aboard this ship. They promised me I could have her back if I helped them."
The Doctor considered, ignoring Darla's obvious emotional turmoil for a moment. "Help them? With what? You already got me here, what more could they want from you?"
Darla shook her head. "I don't know. I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm so sorry."
He hung his head, thinking for a second. "Whatever the Daleks want, Darla, I'm sorry to tell you that they're probably lying."
"About what?" Darla asked, shaking her head in distress.
"In all likelihood, Darla, your daughter is already dead," the Doctor said. The woman collapsed into tears, and the Doctor sank down beside her. He folded his arm over her shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"She's alive, Doctor," Darla said through heaving sobs. "Why would they tell me otherwise?"
"To ensure your cooperation," the Doctor said, shaking his head in commiseration. "I just can't figure out why."
"I know why," she said, her voice quiet. "They said you would require me. They said that if… if you succeeded, they'd give me Hanna back."
The Doctor froze. "That I would require you? For what?"
Before Darla could answer, a deep rumbling sounded from somewhere above them. The Doctor craned his head back, and saw the ceiling was irising open, revealing a dark, cavernous space stretching on for as far as the Doctor could see. At the same time, the floor beneath them began to lift upwards.
Darla's sobs silenced, and she shifted herself closer to the Doctor as they passed above the ceiling and continued on upwards. After a few moments, they reached the top of what seemed to be an elevator shaft.
The Doctor was rendered speechless by the sight that greeted them.
They were in the centre of a circular chamber that resembled nothing so much as a stadium. Rising in tiers all around them were hundreds and hundreds of Daleks, every last one of them watching the Doctor and Darla on the platform as it came to a stop.
High above them was a transparent bulkhead that showed them the depths of space, but even from this vantage point it was studded with Dalek spaceships. The Doctor let Darla go and leapt to his feet, turning around to take it all in. Most of the Daleks were the bronze-armoured variants he'd fought on Satellite 5, at Canary Wharf and had composed the majority of Davros' New Dalek Empire, but there were many examples of the New Dalek Paradigm that had been conceived over London in 1941.
The Doctor was pleased to see his TARDIS parked not far away, but a pair of red-armoured New Paradigm drones guarded it. The Doctor immediately ruled dashing towards his ship and making a quick getaway. There was no way he'd make it, and even if he could he was sure the Daleks would shoot down Darla.
More of their crimson brethren milled about on various levels, their oversized gunsticks all pointed towards the Doctor. Only a few metres from where the Doctor and Darla were standing rose a metallic pavilion, housing an enormous tank filled with thick, viscous nutrient fluid. Blue-armoured Strategists were clustered together not far from the tank, and a cadre of white-armoured Supreme Daleks surrounded it in a tight ring.
Illuminated by harsh, white lights, the sole inhabitant of the tank twitched. A one-eyed Dalek mutant watched the Doctor intently, and the Time Lord's jaw fell open.
"Doctor," came Darla's voice, sounding thin and reedy in the cavernous chamber. "Where are we?"
"This isn't just any Dalek spaceship. This is the Dalek High Command," the Doctor explained, unsure he was able to trust what his eyes were telling him and positive that he didn't want to believe it. "We're in the Dalek High Command."
"What do we do?" Darla said, getting to her feet and rushing to his side.
The Doctor swallowed. "Just do as I say, Darla. If you trust me, we can escape. I promise. When I say run, Darla, I mean run, all right? Make for that blue box. Get inside, and then get down."
"But what about Hanna, Doctor?"
The Doctor paused, unsure what to say. Part of him was sure that the girl was already dead, but he couldn't rule out the possibility, however slight, that she was still alive. When he'd failed to reunite Amy with baby Melody, he'd let her down. He knew, as surely as he knew he had two hearts, that Amy wouldn't want him to keep another mother separated from her child, not if he could possibly help it.
"If she's alive, Darla, we'll find her," the Doctor whispered. "I promise."
"Look no further, Doctor," a deep voice boomed. The Doctor spun to behold the Dalek mutant floating in its tank. Unlike the usual electronically modulated voice of the standard Dalek, this one spoke with a clear, clarion tone; less of the usual screaming cadence and more of a plaintive, demanding voice.
One of the Supreme Daleks moved aside and revealed a shivering, skinny little girl who couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. She shared her mother's aristocratic nose and strawberry blonde hair, but hers was matted and dirty.
"Hanna!" Darla shouted, and the Doctor heard the jubilation in her tone.
"Darla, no!" the Doctor called and grabbed her the shoulder, holding her back. "Don't provoke them."
"Mum!" Hanna screamed, her accent matching Darla's.
"It's okay, Hanna, I'm here!" Darla called to her before turning back to the Doctor. Though tears still shone in her eyes, the fear had been replaced with fury. "You can't expect me to just stand here, Doctor!"
"That is exactly what he expects," the mutant said.
The Doctor ignored it. "Just stay here, Darla. Let me handle this. I promise you, I will do everything I can to get Hanna back to you."
Darla nodded reluctantly.
"Make them remember you, Darla," the Doctor told her, taking her face in his hands and looking her in the eyes. "Listen to me. Make them remember you. Make them fear you. Make them fear the wrath of a mother."
Meeting his eyes, Darla nodded. When he let her go, she wiped that last of her tears away.
The Doctor turned, and took a few steps towards the mutant. "Come on, then," he said, spreading his arms to present himself as an inviting target to the creature and its fellows. "You've got me! At long last!"
The Daleks watched him, following him with their eyestalks.
"What are you waiting for?" the Doctor demanded. "Here I am!"
He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting to hear the familiar Dalek war cry and feel the agony of their weaponsfire tearing through him, burning him from the inside and extinguishing his life in one terribly painful moment.
And then, to his everlasting horror, the mutant spoke. "Save us."
The Doctor's eyes sprang open, and Darla threw a hand to her mouth.
"What?" the Doctor asked, his voice dull with surprise.
"You will save us," the mutant ordered, though there was a note of pleading in its words.
"I'll what?" the Doctor asked, unable to believe his ears.
"You will save the Daleks!"
The hundreds of Daleks that surrounded them, from the bronze-plated footsoldiers to the crimson Drones, from the blue Strategists to the alabaster Supreme Daleks, began to chorus the plea with one voice.
"Save the Daleks! Save the Daleks! Save the Daleks!"
He noticed Hanna jump with surprise, looking around in shock at the Daleks as they repeated those three words over and over again. Darla shifted uncomfortably; she had never seen or heard of the Daleks acting like this. The one thing she had ever been able to take comfort in when she thought of the Daleks and their ruthless, genocidal nature was the predictability of their behaviour.
The Doctor, meanwhile, was grinning like a child on Christmas morning.
"Well," he said to Darla with a roguish wink that unsettled her even more than the Daleks had. "This is new."
A/N: I renamed the Dalek Parliament because, frankly, the concept of the Daleks having a parliament, or a democratic institution of any kind, is nonsense. I mean, like, the Daleks don't have civilians, so they don't even need a Reichstag-style sham representative body? So I called it the Dalek High Command, which makes so much more sense. I mean, if the Daleks have a parliament and a prime minister, do they also have a cabinet? Political parties? Caucuses? Committees? Whips? Which Dalek is leader of the opposition, and who picks how that all works? Anyways, yeah, High Command it is.