Author's Notes: Not completely happy with this, but I never am. It begins.
Martha blinked. There was a jolt in her mind, as she realised this was not the TARDIS.
She looked around. This wasn't right. This wasn't like before.
Before, she could remember who had thrown her in a cell, and why, albeit it being for a ridiculous reason.
She blinked again, her head still fuzzy.
"What?" she said out loud. It was getting dark, she could see through a window high up on the wall.
There was someone else, unconscious, across from her, in the shadows.
She took a deep breath, and and crawled over. She gently turned over the figure and saw a familar, pale, blonde woman in a expensive blouse and patent shoes.
"Lucy?" she wondered aloud. This must be bad. The Master's wife. She checked her over. She had been rendered unconcious, and she had a bruises - Martha deduced she'd been just tossed in here, from her position; it reminded her of the state the Master had left her in aboard the Valiant.
She heard a knock, from the wall in front of her. She reeled.
"Martha?"
"Mickey? Are you alright...is there anyone in there with you?"
"Stating the obvious, but this is the Doctor isn't it? It must be."
"It must be," she replied gingerly, glancing at Lucy.
"Donna's here, we're fine, she's still sleepy."
"Geez! There must be others."
"I got distress signal from Torchwood, thanks for giving them the numbers, cheers!"
"Bloody hell!"
"Massive cliche, this. I think they're just rounding us up."
"You don't say. If Donna's here, then Jack and the Doctor must be too..." she realised.
"Fabulous!"
"Oh, God."
"We'll figure something out."
Suddenly there was a distant scream, echoing from the floors above.
"Ugh!" snorted Mickey instinctively.
"Torture? Ugh, when will they learn?"
Mickey's eyes widened. "The Doctor."
"I know, but it's true isn't it?"
"No, I mean up there."
The screaming rent the air again, and this time Martha was listening properly.
Her hand covered her mouth.
"We can't just sit here!" she cried to the blank wall.
She got up and walked across to the bars.
She squinted through the dark, at the opposite cell. She saw two more people slumped unconcious.
"We have to get out of here."
"It's all deadlocked, all well advanced by the way. It may look crappy, but I think that's a false hope mindfuck thing," she heard Mickey reply, seething.
She heard more yelling from above. It stung her, the helplessness, the frustration, the fact he was in pain, and she couldn't get to him; she couldn't even think of a way they could try and find a way out, her head was so muddled.
"Oh! Screw this!" she announced bitterly. "This can't be it?"
"For now it is!"
"But they're torturing people up there! The Doctor is up there! There must be something!" she knew she was being irrational, but she found it impossible to contain herself.
"We can't. Don't you think we've tried?"
"I know!"
"We need to stop and think this all through. Think about it. Does it look like there's anything we can do right now?"
"No."
"You're free to come up with something, but for now..."
"But for now I have to sit tight and listen to that."
"Oh yeah. Grit your teeth, we'll sort this. We have to."
"I know, I know."
"We'll get through this, you have to-"
"Believe that. I know. I just- they're hurting..."
"Of course they are, they want-"
"To grind us down! I know, I know, don't give them the satisfaction!" she shouted through the wall.
"Shush! Voice down!" Mickey implored.
"Oh...sorry. Do you know anything?"
"All I know is they don't muck about, they're not Daleks, but they have a major grudge, I can tell you, tch, they might as well be!"
Then Martha heard a tapping noise.
She looked around for its source. It was coming from the cell opposite.
She peered into the gloom. She could make out the shape of a young girl.
"Who's there?" she called, as loud as she dared.
"My name is Emma," the voice answered. "That's my mum," she said shakily, indicating Lucy.
Martha realised.
"You're the Master's daughter," she mused out loud.
"Is she alright?"
"Yeah, she seems fine, she's just knocked out."
"You would know," came the reply. "Anyway, I just wanted to say, it's not all lost. That's all I can say, I don't know if they're listening."
"Who's in there with you?"
"Role call," she heard Mickey state, bitterly.
"Erm...I'm not sure. Erm...young, I think he's Welsh, wearing a suit..."
"Ianto. Shit, they're really covering the bases here. What's he ever done? Not that we've...they must have Gwen too. I'm gonna take a massive leap and say they've got Sarah Jane aswell. Crap, what about Luke?"
"Wouldn't put it past them."
"There's a chance. Trust me. You have to think..." Emma nodded in the darkness. "You know, whatever..."
"You sure?" Martha mouthed at her.
She nodded defiantly.
Martha grimaced at the awful ruckus coming from above and took as much of Emma's confidence to heart as she could, and tried to block out the thought of what they were doing to the Doctor, and how badly she wanted to stop it.
"It's not all lost..." says the Master's daughter. A chance, someone could save us. Someone with the capabilities, with connections, who might have slipped through...Aggie. Trust given.