Respect
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"Doctor, how great for you to be here to witness our victory." The Gothic King said as he tuned looking back at the man who was led forward by two burly Ogron soldiers. The man had bruises and his face was smudged with dirt and ash. His green frocked jacket burnt and dirty. The gothic king smiled. "I am truly happy to see you."
"I didn't have much of a choice in the matter." The Doctor said in annoyance. His blue eyes narrowed in anger. "Do you really think this will work?"
"My forces have defeated the Concordance of Shade, the Empire of the Night has fallen, we now control the dark energy wells, Doctor, and with them the fate of the universe itself. Burn or freeze or immortality, it's all in our grasp." The King said chuckling to himself.
"You mean the Dalek Emperor's grasp." the man said. "You don't think for a minute that he'd let you make any choices whatsoever in the matter. You're just a puppet, an extension of his grubby little protuberances. He wields you and your entire species like a sword."
"Silence!" The King snarled loudly. "We are equal…"
"No, you aren't, in the Daleks' eyes nothing is equal to them, you're all just infestations and impediments to their perfection." The Doctor smirked. "You're nothing more than educated Ogrons to the Daleks, tools, foot soldiers, nothing more than dispensable utensils. The Dalek Emperor sends you out to get slaughtered and cut down so his forces can swarm into the battle at the end and claim the victory."
"What would you know, Doctor!?" The King growled turning his back to the Time Lord and looking out the viewing window. Watching his great engines of war surrounding the remaining enemy forces. A cold sneer cut across his face. A voice came across the PA requesting the final orders. The Gothic King turned, looking to the Doctor, a weak pathetic enemy, defeated, demoralized, powerless. He smiled an evil smile and prepared to give the order. "See now, Doctor, watch us take this victory. See that your words are baseless, your rhetoric impo-"
"MY LORD IT'S-!" The voice over the PA shouted. The Gothic King turned and saw the time windows pop open as Dalek war saucers swarm onto the battlefield.
"If I've learned anything, the worst ones are the kill stealers." The Doctor said smiling. "You know they'll take all the cool drops for themselves, and leave you with the worthless stuff. Doesn't that just annoy you? You do all the leg work and they just swoop in at the end and take all the credit, and all the spoils. How is Goth by the way? The last I heard you had a crippling famine going on. Have the Daleks helped you much with that?"
"Our alliance is strong, Doctor, if you think we are unwilling to share-"
"SHARE!?" The Doctor laughed loudly and looked to the two Ogrons standing next to him. "Did you hear that? Share? Did the Daleks ever share anything with your lot?" The Ogrons stood silent and stoic. "See, silence, nothing. If anything the Daleks made them worse off." The Doctor turned back to the Gothic King. "They'll use you up, and when they no longer need you, they'll throw you to one side and you'll just be another target for their genocide. Do they even talk to you anymore, King of the Goths? Or do they simply send their Ogron with a sticky-note taped to his chest? Hmm? Think about it."
"I'll show you!" The Gothic King shouted as he turned and pushed a button on a console in the room. "Hail the Dalek Supreme, I want to talk to him!"
The Doctor crossed his arms over his chest and the two of them waited for several minutes before.
"Daleks are not responding to hails, sire." came the voice over the PA reported.
"Tell them this is the King of the Goths and that I demand to talk to the Dalek Supreme!" The Gothic King shouted. "Tell them I have captured the Doctor!"
Almost instantly the window flared to life as a black Dalek appeared on screen. "You will trans-mat the Time Lord to us!"
"My men captured the Doctor, my men took the dark energy wells!" The Gothic King shouted, at the Dalek. "You're forces will retreat, and we will determine how we will transfer the resources!"
"Neg-a-tive! You will O-bey!" the Dalek growled. It's grating voice surprisingly composed in the face of this insubordination. "O-bey, or else!"
"I will no longer allow the Daleks to steal our victories! It will be known that the Deathsmiths of Goth won this battle, that our firepower brought down the Empire of the Night!" The Gothic King snarled at the screen. "You will treat us with the proper respect we deserve! We are your allies, your equals in this partner-"
"Da-leks are Su-Preme!" The black tank replied. The antagonism in its metallic voice barely hidden in the underlying shrillness of its voice. "Goths are in-fan-try! Goths are wea-pon-smiths. DA-LEKS CON-QUER AND DE-STROY! GOTHS O-BEY!" the tank started to wobble slightly in its fervor. "YOUR FORCES WILL PULL BACK! YOUR FORCES WILL BOW! YOUR FORCES WILL O-BEY DA-LEK COMMANDS!" The dome on the top of the tank turned the single eye stalk pointed to the Doctor. Its fervor subsided as it appraised the Doctor, and then without turning to look at the Gothic King it spoke. "You will trans-fer the Time Lord to us in fifteen deci-rels, or we will take him as we see fit!"
"I WILL NOT BE TALKED TO LIKE-" The King of the Goths roared but the Dalek disappeared from the screen.
"Well, I think that went fairly well, what do you guys think?" The Doctor said to the two Ogrons guarding him. Neither responded to him. "No? Nothing? You really need to liven up a bit guys…"
"How could they treat me with such disrespect?" The Gothic King snarled clenching his hands into fists. "I am the King of the Goths, Grand Master of Death, The Endless Terror, The Unrivaled Slayer of All! They speak to me like I am nothing! As if I am some slave chained to their gun stalk!"
"To them you are." The Doctor said quietly, turning to the Gothic King. "They will never respect you, they will never treat you as equals, they will never show you anything but contempt for existing. You may as well accept that now, King. So, go on now, transfer me over to the Dalek Supreme's ship, like a good little slave, follow the orders of your master."
"You be silent!" The Gothic King rumbled through gritted teeth. The king seethed, clenching and unclenching his fists. He turned looking down upon the battle, the saucers firing upon the remaining enemies. His own ships being pushed aside. His vessels that had suffered the indignities and insults of battle, his men and troops who had fought hard and won this victory now being ignored and pushed aside like so much garbage. His lips curled revealing the fangs beneath. "NO! This won't stand!" The king turned sharply lifting a blaster holstered at his hip, shooting the two emissaries of the Daleks on his bridge. He lifted the gun to the Doctor, narrowed his eyes angrily and then turned away, pressing a button on the console. "All Gothic Ships, this is your king! Do not let the Daleks forget who are the Deathsmiths in this battle! WE will not retreat, we will not shrink back from the Daleks! We will claim this victory in the name of Goth! OPEN FIRE ON ALL SHIPS BELOW! Dalek or Not!"
Almost instantly the Dalek from before appeared on screen.
"YOU-WILL-CEASE!" The Dalek screeched. "YOUR SHIPS WILL-"
The Gothic King snorted and cut off the communication channel. He glared at the screen watching his ships bombarding all below them. "You will shut up…"
"You know they won't let you get away with this." The Doctor said quietly.
"My family let the Daleks get away with these indignities for centuries." the king said, looking to the Doctor. "No more. If I die restoring dignity to Goth, it will be a death worthy of a Deathsmith. Time Lord, your vessel is in the cargo bay. I will deliver to them one more indignity. To know they had you, but lost you because of their own disrespect. Maybe then…maybe then they'll learn."
"I rather doubt-"
"GO! Before I change my mind, Doctor." The King of Goths said, looking up at the Doctor. "My forces can't hold them for long, but we'll make good on them, we will give them the deaths they deserve. They will understand why we are called the Deathsmiths of Goth!"
The Doctor looked at the King of the Goths and nodded slightly before turning and running. The ship shook slightly. The King of the Goths turned and saw the saucer approaching, its firepower drilling into the Gothic Death Engine's shielding. He could hear the reports from below. The shielding failing, the armor cracking, the weapon systems inoperative. He walked to window and glared forward, imagining that he was staring into the eye stalk of the Dalek Supreme. He sneered in defiance. He reached over to the button on the console.
"Bring all power to the forward shields and bring thrusters to full forward, ramming speed." The King of the Goths said. "We will show them death, stab into their heartless bodies with our dying breath. We will undo their lives…we are the Deathsmiths of Goth, and we will be respected!"
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AN: This was actually another quick one. It sort of just happened.