The Lone Dalek

To the Daleks, their law was absolute. The Dalek race thrived on the control of a thousand worlds, an entire universe under their control. For countless generations the Daleks destroyed millions in their quest for total control of reality. The Time Lords finally attempted to stop them, having foreseen such a terrible future. So the legendary ‘Time War’ began. - Chief Sectionist Ambasu of Arkemis Five, 200 000 AD.

Utah, 2012 AD

It stood there, chained like a dog to four metallic posts, a distinct hum of power coursing through its structure. To the Dalek it could almost be thought of as PEACE, curious for a warrior of war and death. SI-LENCE was a sense it was used to, be it across fifty years of travel across the planet, between the systematic torture, or earlier, when it was the killer, when the screams of thousands abruptly… stopped.

The Dalek understood DEATH.

A noise from beyond the VAULT caught its attention. Voices. Footsteps.

There was a distinct sound of gears in the air as the door to the VAULT slid open, the artificial light from the outside streaming in. For a brief moment, the slightest hint of an emotion coursed through its body, a feeling the humans would refer to as fear. In seconds it was replaced by aggression and hate as a figure walked warily into the room. SI-MONS? MAG-GIO? VAN STAT-TEN?

No, it was not that sadistic human who revelled in its pain, the last shards of torture over countless days, for fifty solar years, still straining at its armour and the creature deep within the dark recesses. Nor was it his LEA-DER. Indeed the Dalek could not identify this human. Instantly it lost interest in the creature, seeing no signs of weapons and primitive 'sticks' which so burned its interior with pain. But the Dalek was a soldier breed for pain, and so it would continue to be silent. It would not obey the orders of the humans even in death.

The human spoke of the same alien words - SOR-ROW and PI-TY which the Dalek could understand, but felt only disgust for. This human was clearly invoking speech through these inferior concepts, something the Dalek's brain perceived as the ultimate weakness. No Dalek would CARE. No true Dalek would invoke the words of CON-TENT-MENT, KIND-NESS or PI-TY.

"I've come to help, I'm the Doctor.."

In the darkness, silence spread to pause. For a second the Dalek considered the abrupt words in its brain. Two words had sparked a surge of E-MOT-IONS within. Fear spread, but for very different reasons, followed by a hate the Dalek had never felt so strong before.

The DOC-TOR! A TIME-LORD! Visions of the Time War echoed through the Dalek's mind and anger surged still further.

It activated its voice centre. The sound of the audio-visualiser surged to full power, but the darkness still prevented the Dalek from seeing the figure clearly. On the visual screen, eight encrypted images blared into the Dalek's mind in microseconds, vast data-files which it had not shifted through in decades. Hate was absolute.

"DOC...TOR?"

The figure started. “Impossible!” Though still shadowed, the Dalek could perceive doubt and fear within the room. Data was now streaming as the computer files finished the perceived course of action.

Ka Faraq Gatri! Oncoming Storm! EX-TER-MIN-ATE!

"THE DOC-TOR?"

#############################################

I remember birth. At least, my birth. The concept of birth to the Dalek is different from humans, Time-Lords or indeed any race. We are made in the Dalek’s image. I am neither an egg or embryo. I am at first lifeless tissue.

A vast system of computers observe my birth, like every other birth they record my slow modification from simple cellular creature to my mature, overly crude self. I am almost blind. I am naked. Around me hundreds of other Daleks squirm in the same way. From conception hate and fear are almost a constant feeling.

We all scream at first. Silently. We cannot yet speak.

Slowly we are made to learn of the great plan our Emperor has sent out for us. His control insures the future dependence of our glorious race. But there is danger. The Daleks fear the depths of space, where there is our enemies. The Time-Lords. The Doctor. The Daleks, they fear the Doctor. We are shown our foe. How he takes so many forms to deceive us and exterminate the Dalek race.

We are even shown that not all of our race is pure. Several Daleks have fallen to the lies of the arch-deceiver Davros. He is a corrupter of minds. Davros was our creator once, but he failed to grasp the true significance of our destiny. He attempted to hold us back but he could not. His influence is weak now, our scouts searching for his treachery.

But the Doctor is our greatest enemy.

The Doctor and his race are Time-Travellers. They scan the cosmos for life and select what is bad and what is good. The Time Lords gazed at us, the Daleks, and they saw that it was bad.

I mature. I am feed a daily supply of nutrients and hate. Every solar day I and my brothen learn of the Doctor, the Time Lords, the Movellans. The Daleks have seen eons of war and death. Several races have fallen swiftly to our great plan. Others like the Time-Lords are stronger and refuse to be subjugated.

There is a war. It has only just begun, but already the Emperor has seen its significance. The Time-Lords for centuries have lived a life of non-interference, merely classifying each race for its value in the universe. But our power is so great that even they cannot dare to sit and watch the universe be ours.

The Time Lords are aware of our experiments in time-travel. They know one day we could rival them as rulers of the Vortex. There are sections in the Time-Lords which for eons have demanded our removal from time. But our presence is too important for that - we can only be destroyed.

For months I have been in statis, awaiting full maturity. Now, my time has come. I am moved from my womb into a larger room. Around me Daleks like me are also being transported. I am still partily blind, but I can smell Dalek everywhere. It is a curious blend of metal and organic tissue. Humans would say I stink. I smell a intoxicating odour from my comrades. To me it is perfect.

I can also faintly hear their voices. I am already used to their tone. It is the sound of the Dalek which drives me.

My movements stop. I sense something close by. Metal and gears. I am descending into it.

Darkness, overseen by the smallest glimmer of artifial light as I enter my new environment.

It is a gift from the Emperor. A machine which strikes fear into the hearts of humans, but for me is a drug of power. Nutrients once more flow into me as I am connected for the first and in theory only time. For the rest of eternity, or until my destruction, this shall be my body and blood.

The concept of being a Dalek is impossible for me to explain fully. Rather I change, slowly. I see for the first time in a complex system of visual images. I feel two new attachments. I feel the circuits which control my movement, my eyesight, my weapon. At first I panic slightly. All Daleks feel fear in their first contact beyond their organic state, I am informed later. Then the feelings of hate and aggression feed ever stronger. I am complete. I am beautiful to the Emperor.

I see through my eye a figure in front of me. Like me it is gold and powerful. It is a Dalek, like me. Its eye turns to face mine. Together we note we are in formation, on a vast assembly-line of newly born Dalek. We reach the end. A Dalek glides forwards. He is… different. I am suddenly aware why. His exterior appearance indicates he is superior. The Emperor has selected some Daleks to be our leaders. But he is more. I understand now. He is blackly coloured.

He is the Dalek Supreme, second only to the Emperor. I am… awed is the only word I can use.

He speaks. “GREET-INGS LOYAL SER-VANTS OF THE EMP-ER-OR. I AM THE DA-LEK SU-PREME. YOU HAVE BEEN SE-LECT-ED FOR ATT-ACH-MENT TO THE DA-LEK TEMP-OR-AL STRIKE FORCE. YOU WILL BE THE FIRST OF THE DA-LEKS IN THE TIME WAR.” His voice increasingly rises in pitch. “WITH OUR NEW TIME TRA-VEL TECH-NOL-O-GY, THE DA-LEKS WILL CON-QUER THE UNI-VERSE!”

I feel a sense of power. For one so new-born, it is a new, strange and enriching sensation, what a humanoid would call pleasure. For the Daleks, this is their life-blood.

The Daleks around me are similarly elated. One is more so and he cries out “THE TIME-LORDS WILL BE EX-TER-MIN-ATED! EX-TER-MIN-ATE!”.

In union we scream out our power, our hatred and our fuel. “EX-TER-MIN-ATE! EX-TER-MINATE! EX-TER-MIN-ATE!”

###########################################

“EX-TER-MIN-ATE! EX-TER-MIN-ATE! EX-TER-MIN-ATE!” With the memories of the past racing through its brain, the Dalek was subjected to the light. Instantly the figure of the DOC-TOR could be seen, but it did not match any of the images the Dalek screened. Not old. Not curly. Not in highly irregular clothing.

The DOC-TOR had changed again.

“Let me out, you have to let me out!” The DOC-TOR was terrified now, his prinitive humanoid body attempting to flee from the sealed VAULT. For a second, the Dalek forgot it was chained, that it was using frailing energy just to talk, yet alone scream. It raised it weapon in near smugness.

The DOC-TOR would be EX-TER-MIN-ATED!

“YOU ARE AN EN-EM-Y OF THE DA-LEKS; YOU MUST BE DES-TROY-ED!”

Silence came for a fraction of a second as the DOC-TOR turned to stare at the Dalek, his eyes clamped on its weapon. Pure glee turned to blind fear. The DOC-TOR knew.

“It’s not working…”

In fear the Dalek tried to activate any, any remaining power to its weapon. The DOC-TOR was in its grasp. But none could be found. The weapon lowered as the DOC-TOR’s mouth raised.

“Fantastic!”

For a Dalek, it was a scene from a nightmare. The Ka Faraq Gatri was walking towards it and it could not fight. “Oh, fantastic! Powerless! Look at you, the great space dustbin! How does it feel?” The E-MOT-ION in his eyes betrayed anger, resentment. Hate.

From predator to prey.

“KEEP BACK!” it screamed. It could do little else.

“What for?” The DOC-TOR was now shouting in its eyepiece, his face obscuring everything else. “What are you gonna do to me?" Then he started to walk round the Dalek, the bitterness in his voice still clear. "If you can’t kill, what are you good for, Dalek? What’s the point of you? You’re nothing! NOTHING!”

The Dalek could not reply. It could not flee. There was not enough power to eject or self-destruct. It did feel a sense of irritation and contempt as it pondered the thought of blowing up in the DOC-TOR’s face. But such a desperate action was impossible.

The Dalek watched, quietly, as his foe began to pace across the room before turning. “What the hell are you here for?” he growled.

“I AM... WAIT-ING FOR OR-DERS.”

“What does that mean?” the DOC-TOR had failed to grasp the Dalek’s position. It could tell him its entire role in the Time-War, every battle it had fought in the twenty years it had been a SOLD-IER in the Dalek army. It would tell him little. Besides, the humans outside were greedily listening to every word it uttered. VAN STAT-TEN would be awaiting the knowledge of the stars if the DOCT-OR could help give it to him. The Dalek pondered if the DOC-TOR was also a prisoner.

“I AM A SOLD-IER. I WAS BRED TO RE-CEIVE OR-DERS.”

“Well you’re never gonna get any. Not ever.”

“I DE-MAND OR-DERS!” Fear was replaced once more by rage. The Dalek refused to be powerless. The Daleks would come one day, they would locate it and EX-TER-MIN-ATE Earth with them.

“They’re never gonna come! Your race is dead! You all burnt, all of you. Ten million ships on fire. The entire Dalek race, wiped out in one second!”

Silence.

“YOU LIE!” the Dalek screamed loudly. You cannot destroy the Daleks! Every fight is a victory and for every frail defeat, the Daleks are merely delayed rather than defeated! Its systems spawned a vast pool of propaganda to calm the creature.

“I watched it happen, I MADE it happen!”

The Dalek could not reply at first. It was confused.

“YOU… DES-TROY-ED US?”

Now the DOC-TOR face changed, as if a black shadow had been thrown onto the world. “I had no choice.”

Slowly, the full weight of his voice was descending on the Dalek.

“AND WHAT OF THE TIME-LORDS?” If the Daleks had gone, were the Time-Lords the victors?

“Dead. They burnt with you. The end of the last great Time War. Everyone lost.”

A tiny feeling of satifaction burned through the Dalek. It was alone, but so was the DOC-TOR. While most of the Time-Lords had fought back, the Doctor had fled into time. While the Dalek had no choice, the DOC-TOR had chosen HU-MIL-I-ATION. He was GUIL-TY of fleeing his post.

“AND THE COW-ARD SUR-VIVED.” It smugly noted.

The DOC-TOR angrily turned back to the Dalek, his rage surging in drives now, exactly as it had intended.

“Oh, really? And I caught your signal from the TARDIS. You little noise whispering “Help me?” the DOC-TOR said in a sarcastic tone.

The Dalek had nothing left.

“But there’s no-one else coming because there’s no-one else left.”

Nothing to fight for. No army to conquer the universe. No Time-Lords bar the DOC-TOR. The Daleks were gone? But…

Cold. So very cold.

“I AM A-LONE IN THE UNI-VERSE.” a hoarse voice came from the Dalek’s speakers.

“Yep.”

Anger and resentment once more fueled through the Dalek, its mind working furiously.

“SO... ARE… YOU.” The DOC-TOR’s smile faded. He twirled to angily face the Dalek again.

“WE ARE THE SAME.”

“We’re not the same! I’m not…” the figure stopped mid-sentence as he realised the Dalek’s intentions. Pleasure surged back into its circuits. The DOC-TOR, the ‘GREAT EX-TER-MIN-ATOR’ reduced to a mere humanoid before its eyes.

“No, wait. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we are the same.” Pleasure gave way to surprise. The DOC-TOR was agreeing with him. The Dalek realised the strains of the Time-War had proved more damning that thought.

“You’re right. Yeah, OK. You’ve got a point. Cause I know what to do. I know what should happen. I know what you deserve.” the DOC-TOR was walking towards the Dalek again. It felt no fear now, merely curiosity. The DOC-TOR was going to -

He was grinning.

NO!

“Exterminate!” The Doctor sarcastically muttered.

He raced to the voltage device and applied a huge voltage through the Dalek’s body. Pain, far greater than SI-MONS had ever administered ran through its body along with pure rage.

The DOC-TOR was willing to kill.

“AAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!! HAVE PI-TY!" the Dalek screamed. It didn’t want to die, not after so long. Yet it had mere minutes before.

Now it had a purpose for avoiding death. The DOC-TOR must die. But now it was impossible as the Dalek screamed in pain, rage and sorrow.

“Why should I? You never did!” he snarled.

“HELP… ME!” the Dalek was screaming for help. Anything! Anyt-

Without warning, the VAULT swung open and SI-MONS busted in, grabbing the DOC-TOR with another man as VAN STAT-TEN raced in to save his prize.

“I saved your life! Now talk to me. Goddamnit, talk to me!” He spat out in his rich, ego-boosted voice.

The Dalek couldn’t speak, the strains of the events draining it so much. And even if it could, it would never address this inferior human until he was EX-TER-MIN-ATED!

“You’ve got to destroy it!” the DOC-TOR was trying to reach the machine again but was dragged away. He was their prisoner.

“The last in the universe! And now I know your name. Da...lek.” STAT-TEN was so pleased it had spoken around the metal thing he called his own. Address you? No! The Dalek was no pet.

“Speak to me, Dalek!”

Silence.

"I am Henry Van Statten, now RECOGNISE ME!"

Amid his annoying voice, the Dalek shut down in shock and anger.

Only the DOC-TOR was important. No other…

###############################################

"Inside each of those shells is a living, bubbling lump of hate." - The Doctor, Exxilon, The Early 29th Century.

The Dalek Temporal fleet advances across the universe.

I am one of countless thousands of Daleks descending on one of its first battlefields, a unknown jungle-covered planet sometime in the mid 64th Century. It is inhabited by vast monsters and primitive tribesmen, still somewhere in the pre-mutant evolutionary stages in development. They do not concern us, save for slave breeding and planetary control. We are here for the Time-Lords - and their allies.

For the Time-Lords fear us so they have undone centuries of isolation and thrown themselves to countless species across Time and Space. We do the same. Before long both sides have sided with some of the most powerful creatures in the universe, vast armies of Cybermen, Ice Warrior, Draconian, Ogon and Gleth moving across the cosmos to battle one another, for themselves and their chosen alliance.

The Emperor knows the outcome. It will be a difficult war for the Dalek race, but it will be over swiftly once the Daleks destroy the Temporal Barrier which separates Gallifrey from the rest of eternity. It has been done twice before. Once by our own kind. It shall be done again.

But first, we need a stronghold and position in which to strike. And hard. This is only the beginning.

Over the summit of a marshy hill I and two of my kind advance, our cries of “SEEK. LO-CATE. EX-TER-MIN-ATE!” filling the stale air with an aura of fear. There we see the first of the enemy.

It is the first non-Dalek I have seen in my short existence thus far, for I am only mere days in my metallic shell. It is a short and squat creature, its armour covering all of its body save for its frail head, two tiny eyes and mouth gaping with a mixture of horror and honourable glory at our approach. But they do not flee. The Daleks identify this race.

They are Sontarans. Cloned Warriors. The Daleks know much of the fight between them and the Rutan Collective for thousands, perhaps ten and thousands of years. The Sontarans are even more old than the earliest knowledge of the Daleks, and yet their war has dragged on.

So it was natural when the Sontarans joined the Time-Lords, for all their old rivalry, that the Rutan Collective instantly sided with us in a bid to attack their hated enemy.

The five Sontarans attack with standard blaster rifles and cannons, their useless weaponry bouncing off my Dalek shell. Still, the anger rises within me. I am under enemy fire. The hate is only natural.

We three Daleks abruptly open fire on the warriors, our weaponry swiftly cutting down the Sontaran drones in microseconds. A pleasurable contentment fills my mutant body. I have exterminated! The enemy is for now halted!

The three of us continue up the hill, compensating for the wet ground by the usage of our elevation packs. Our appearance is often considered as a weakness for our inability to climb difficult biological or industrial terrain by primitives. It is therefore another feeling of satisfaction to me when some time later, a Sontaran attempts to elude me by navigating such a environment.

It is foolish, and simply makes him harder to hit. He survives two seconds longer than the rest of his battalion.

Now I am alone.Our orders are to capture a required instrument for disabling an energy shield over the capitol, which prevents our entry to destroy the population. I blast my way into the control room, where a frantic Time-Lord is relaying a message to his counterpart.

“Request urgent assistance! 80% of General Stike’s troops have been terminated and the Time Lord guards cannot hold much longer! Please Gallifrey, we need you hel-”

I have heard enough, so I cut him off by stunning his legs. I could kill him, but this is my first Time-Lord. I wish to see his terrified face when he dies. And to see if the Dalek Supreme deems him useful.

On the reporting screen, a Time Lord technician is gazing out in fear as I enter the room, the first still on the floor wheeling in agony.

It happens quickly. I am dazed as a blast of energy, far greater than anything I have been before ploughs into my midsection. There is a powerful enemy in here!

My shield has been deactivated! I am damaged! The shot has had naturopathic abilities to disrupt my defences! It has also rendered my midsection gyros useless for the next thirty solar minutes. Nevertheless, I can twirl my visual dome to see my attacker.

It is a Sontaran, but the silver medals on his chest and the high-class weapon in his claws indicate he is highly superior for all his identically. This is the General and leader of the Sontarans.

“You and your kind killed my men, Dalek.” the Sontaran snarled. “But General Stike does not tire so easily!” He runs at great speed into me, temporary jamming my visual circuits. But I am not defenceless.

“YOU WILL BE EX-TER-MIN-ATED!”

“Not… on my watch!” the Sontaran struggles to prevent me turning to face him as he levels the weapon at my centre, knowing exactly where my mutant body is housed. If he fires, I have a 16% chance of survival and even then, it will be outside of my protective casing.

“Long live the Sontaran Empire! Death to the Daleks!”

My metallic body partially moves towards him, but still the warrior struggles. Suddenly my right arm extends and my sucker-arm lashes out at his head. Dazed he falls backwards, the weapon sent flying. I fully twirl.

“EX-TER-MIN-ATE!”

The General falls to the floor, lifeless while the Time-Lord bumbles something about his ‘mother’, traditionally a hierarchal figure in society. It irritates me, so I kill him without even speaking. In some ways he probably prefers this.

I twirl my body directly in front of the screen where a small group of technicians are now gathering at the other end of the screen, somewhere on Gallifrey. My eye narrows as I increase my visual range to see the fear on every single face.

“TIME-LORDS.” the sound of my voice echoing through the control room terrifies them further, as more of my kind begin to fill into the centre, searching for the required component. I simply continue, some tiny surge of pleasure, an irrationial emotion all but purged from all Dalek brains, making me wish to inspire fear into their primitive shells. “TIME-LORDS, YOU PLAN-ET WILL BE-LONG TO THE DAL-EKS SOON. WE ARE COM-ING FOR YOU. ARE YOU AF-RAID?”

Before they answer I fire at the screen, its atoms scattering across the room, the other Daleks watching.

“WE HAVE FOUND THE IN-STRU-MENT.” a Dalek reports to our superior, though he has no external indication as does the Dalek Supreme.

“EX-CELL-ENT! PRO-CEED TO THE CAP-IT-OL AND EX-TER-MIN-ATE ANY RES-IST-ENCE. TAKE THE REST AS SLAVES.”

“WE O-BEY!” the Daleks including myself utter. As I pass the lead Dalek however he speaks to me personally.

“UNIT 65273 OF DA-LEK TEMP-OR-AL TASK FORCE. YOUR DE-FEN-CE SYS-TEMS HAVE BEEN CRIT-I-CALLY DAM-AGED. RE-PORT TO THE RE-PAIR SHIP FOR UP-GRADE.”

Had I been an organic, I might have protested at the state of my wound, had sworn I was fit to enter the glorious fight against the Time-Lords with my own kind. It is how I feel. I feel the urge to Exterminate.

But I am a soldier. I am bred to receive orders, as a unit or part of a vast, unstoppable army.

I say the words “I O-BEY!”, even though I don’t wish to. No Dalek ever questions why.

#################################################################

For the three thousandth, eight hundredth and forty sixth time, the Dalek reactivated to the sound of its own screaming.

SI-MMONS. His gleeful grin clear on the view screen as he ploughed his human device directly into the Dalek’s core.

“A-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-!”

“So, ‘Da-lek’ is it? Now we’re on naming terms, perhaps you’d like to talk to Uncle Simmons, eh?” he continued in much the same tone he’d been using over the past year to talk to the Dalek. “Where are you from? Who made you? What do you do in your spare time? What’s your favourite food? SPEAK, goddamnit, SPEAK!”

The Dalek screamed louder as he thrust the machine in harder. “Van Statten wants little Dalek to speak for Simmons. Now talk!”

No. The Dalek enjoyed more than anything else the glee of the world outside, that somehow SI-MMONS would have a lot of abuse from his LEA-DER whenever he finished, more-so than usual.

Of course, this just made SI-MMONS more determined.

Finally though, after fifteen gruelling minutes of pain, he stopped, screaming in aggravation and almost slamming his fist down on the dome head. Then he stopped and chuckled. “I know what your stinking Dalek mind is thinking,” he muttered, “and I aint’ gonna burn up like the rest of them. I need a comfort break. Don’t even think this is over.”

With that he pressed a series of keys on the locking control panel (the Dalek had several times attempted to visualise them, but to no success) and smugly walked outside. The Dalek could just spot DE-MAG-GIO, her grim face staring back at the creature inside.

“We’ll get a reply soon.” was the last thing the Dalek heard from SI-MMONS before the door slammed shut and the voices outside became unidentifiable.

Skaro.

The Emperor.

Visualising you die.

Nutrients.

Ten minutes passed. During that time it thought about nothing but the DOC-TOR, the TIME WAR and the DOC-TOR.

It wanted to escape. It wanted to locate him and totally destroy him. It wanted to win the War.

The Daleks weren’t dead. Perhaps delayed, perhaps trapped or crippled, but never completely destroyed. That was impossible. And besides, it knew at least one Dalek lived.

Its thoughts were interrupted by murmurings from outside, raised voices, before the doors to the CAGE opened and two figures walked in.

Both were human, though the Dalek identified them as from a different segment of the same planet. Under normal circumstances it would be disinterested in any new arrivals, but this was not a normal solar day.

“Don’t get too close.” the male said with concern.

Neither was the Doctor, but it was the female which the Dalek was drawn to. There was something unusual about her genetic structure. In microseconds the Dalek scanned her entire body and was mentally intrigued.

Temporal particles. The same particles it scanned as it hurled through the time-winds to Earth fifty years ago.

She must be the DOC-TOR’s companion.

By now the girl had walked over to its eyepiece and was staring inside, as if she expected the metallic shell was the Dalek itself.

“Hello? Are you in pain?” Her voice betrayed an immense sense of PI-TY in her words.

PI-TY to be taken advantage.

“I’m Rose Tyler. I’ve got a friend who can help, he’s called the Doctor.”

The Dalek’s theory was correct.

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I am... in pain. They... tor-ture me, yet still they fear me.” the Dalek choose its words with great cunning, choosing to distort the truth rather than lie. Though it had never been trained to face this situation of escape, its brain was already filled with all the required materials and ideas in which to formulate such a hard-hitting response, just as it had already done with the Doctor. “Do… you fear me?”

“No.” the girl named ROSE TY-LER already stared with sadness at this sorrowful creature, its frailing metal damaged and wires across its body, chaining it like a savage to a rotting tree. It was cruel and barbaric.

And for the first time the Dalek was hugely content with its surroundings which furthered its words to the cracking voice.

“I am Dy-ing.”

“No, we can help!” ROSE TY-LER was near to tears now. Perfect.

“I wel-come death. But... I am glad. That be-fore I die... I met a Hu-man who was not a-fraid.”

“Isn’t there anything I can do?”

Release me. Let me free to find the DOC-TOR and destroy him! All this time the Dalek was waiting, knowing sooner or later it would do something irrational that would lead to its escape.

“My race... is Dead. I shall die… a-lone.”

And with the weight of the poor, sorrowful Dalek’s plight beating in her heart, ROSE TY-LER placed her sweat-covered, warm energy-rich hand on its visual dome.

“Rose, no!”

Immense power surged through the Dalek systems as the body heat and DNA of ROSE TY-LER acted across its biomechanics.

“GE-NETIC MATERIAL, EX-TRA POLY-AT-ION, INI-AT-ING CELL-U-LAR RE-CONS-TRUCT-IONNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!”

The bonds that had held its captive shell in place for a whole year broke with the strain and finally, after fifty years, the Dalek was free!

FREE-DOM! FREE-DOM to EX-TER-MIN-ATE! To DES-TORY the DOC-TOR!

ROSE TY-LER was moving backwards in shock as the apparently helpless life form mere seconds earlier was reborn.

There wasn’t enough power to kill yet. That would have to wait. The chance of escape not presented itself.

Then he busted in.

SI-MMONS.

“What the hell have you done!” he growled as he raced in, holding the weapon he’d been probing the Dalek with for months in a vain attempt for an answer.

The Dalek glided up to him, its eyes fixed on his face. It stared profusely at the smirk that was developing on SI-MMONS face.

“What you gonna do? Sucker me to death?”

The claw lashed forwards and for the first time in fifty years, the familiar pleasure surged through the Dalek as it squeezed every drop of life-force out of the stinking human’s body. It thrived in the elongated screams SI-MMONS made, just like a little primitive infant.

############

Data Transmission from the Emperor. Activate.

The war is going as planned, my children. The Time-Lords scatter like insects to the comfort of their home world, to watch their allies die across space and time. The Sontaran fleet is crippled. The Martians beg for their lives, no longer the hardened warriors of old.

You will be aware of the recent attempt by the Cybermen to secretly inert the Dalek alliance by attempting Cyber-Conversion of various species. It has come to my attention they have been playing the Time-War into their own hands despite their apparent alliance with the Dalek race. However, I have known of this all along. An example is to made of them.

Telos will be invaded by a secure Dalek Taskforce. This will deter any further resistance within the alliance and in addition, will allow us access to Cyber technology. I believe it is time to create new Dalek-controlled subjects, ultimately to apply to all life forms in the universe. Everything shall be in the image of the Dalek.

It will be perfect.

Yes. It shall be as the Emperor says. Perfection is a term the Dalek race strives for. With the control of the Cybermen that goal is almost certainly reached.

I am part of the taskforce, Dalek Unit 65273. It will be my task to assist in destroying the Cyber Race. The Cybermen consider themselves the ultimate life-form in the universe, the powerful silver giants that have arose from the ashes of their planet Mondas. We shall show otherwise.

The Daleks have struck the heart of Cyber-Control. The War begins…and it the Daleks that shall be victorious!

LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!

###################################

“Open fire!” the human called BY-WATER screamed as the Dalek emerged from the CAGE.

Primitive Earth Technology. The humans thought a mere combination of control panels and security systems could stop a Dalek? Utterly ignoring the firing soldiers and the two horrified figures behind them, the Dalek spied a large screen on the wall.

“Don’t shoot it! I want it unharmed!”

On its plasma surface lay the room of an elegant office, clearly the headquarters of VAN STAT-TEN. On the screen leered the figure himself, along with a female counterpart…. And the DOC-TOR.

It enjoyed seeing his embittered face as it got nearer to the source of electro-static power.

“Rose! Get out of there!” the TIME-LORD was screaming at his companion in arms. Pathetic emotions the Dalek had exploited, and would be done so again. It could see Rose’s expression without even turning - it would be a look of terror.

BY-WATER was shouting at DE-MAG-GIO to ‘get the civilians out of here’, but the sound of racing footsteps and the decrease in bullets fired meant nothing to the Dalek. Its mind was elsewhere.

Its single eye burnt in the Doctor’s soul. It didn’t need to even speak.

You will be EX-TER-MIN-ATED!

There was a crash and sparks as the Dalek then smashed the image of the DOC-TOR into a billion pieces, as if this could hurt him. The surge of energy was incredible, new life flowing in its circuits like never before. One thought drove it onwards. This was perfection!

I WILL HAVE MY POW-ER!

“A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H….”

Then, when the repair was complete, the Dalek observed everything.

The internet is a powerful tool to the humans. It perceived it all, flashing past sites on politics, sports, war, primitive reproduction techniques (there seemed to be an abundance of this) and everything else.

##############################

Earth. A tiny blue planet beyond the interest of most species, save invasion. In the past, during our nutrimental state Daleks would access the Hive computer, to learn everything. Dalek understanding is always different from other species, but nevertheless, it is a vast library of information and sources.
The bio-file on Earth is as follows:

EARTH: Planet populated by 7.2 billion bipedal biologicals of the sub-section sub-species ‘Humans’. Suitable wealth to be found throughout its core and landmass though decreasing due to human extraction. High concentrations of polluted atmosphere, particularly in dense areas of human population.

Risk Assessment: Level Orange. Planet’s inhabitants pose little or no threat to the Dalek race but continued interference from the Gallifreyians (See Time Lords) prevented three overwise successful invasion attempts, all involving the DOC-TOR. (See DOC-TOR, High Risk to Dalek Beliefs, Incarnation Observing)

Overall Assessment: Ultimate Extermination of human population to slow progress of species and gain vital strategic position over Mutter Spiral. Interference of the DOC-TOR on Earth requires capture of TARDIS and total Extermination of regenerating properties.

Now I have downloaded it all, and understand the peoples of Earth. It disgusts me, that they enjoy primitive emotions and recreational subjects, that their lives are not devoted completely to the LEAD-ERS of their world. There has been progress (I am struck how much the German Dictator sounds like the Dalek Supreme) but it is always lost in the favour of a concept called DEM-O-CRA-CY. Its aims of peace and unity sicken the Dalek parts of me.

And yet, why does part of me agree? Why do I feel PI-TY?

Why am I questioning myself?

############################################

The Dalek finished its task and twirled round. BY-WATER had vanished, but it could hear up ahead the cries of soldiers and the sound of weaponry being primed. The Humans were ready to fight their little war.

They would not survive. They were billions of them, but only the Doctor knew how to stop it. The rest of them - BY-WA-TER, DE-MAG-GIO, VAN STAT-TEN, ROSE TY-LER - all would fall to its glorious power - the power of the Daleks.

Its eyepiece stared down at its fully functional weapon. In the back of its mind, it could just hear the cries of a thousand Daleks on Gallifrey, poised on the edge of victory.

But that was a long time ago.

“THE DA-LEKS SUR-VIVE IN ME!” With a burst of power it let loose a deadly volley of energy from its weapon. Nothing could stand in its way.

The Doctor would be EX-TER-MIN-ATED! EX-TER-MIN-ATE! EX-TER-MIN-ATE! EX-TER-MIN-ATEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!