Doctor Who and the Universe of the Daleks: Chapter 15: Surrounded

New chapter coming in hot!

The elevator door clanked open and the assault team disgorged into a wide, round metal room. Cas kept herself out in front of The Doctor, attempting to shield her most valuable resource. 

It was her first time actually inside a Dalek installation, and it was a daunting experience. She’d never been in such a clean, shiny, brightly lit environment before. It was like being inside one of those old Christmas decorations. 

The walls were slightly angled inward and bronze in colour, the floor plating gun metal. Thick cables ran along the ceiling, with lighting strips on either side. There were three corridors, two wrapping around the hanger tunnel, and one going east. 

She couldn’t read Dalek numbers, but going by the buttons and the number of rows, they were at least seventy stories underground. 

She turned to The Doctor. “Are you sure this is the right floor?” 

“No, but it’s the bottom floor, and had a big red button, so probably,” said the Doctor, shutting his eyes.

Cas scanned the hallways. No sign of Daleks. “Which way?” she asked over her shoulder. Silence. Puzzled, she turned, only to find The Doctor was gone. In of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a figure marching up the north hallway: The Doctor! 

What the—?!?

Cas and the rest of the team ran to catch up. 

Intercoms along the hallway crackled to life: “ATTENTION! ATTENTION! COMMAND COMPLEX WILL BE SEALED IN THIRTY RELS. POWER LEVELS TO MAXIMUM. PREPARE TO INITIATE FIRST STAGE. STAND BY!”

“We don’t have much time!” shouted The Doctor, maintaining his brisk pace. “Alons-y!”

“Keep your voice down, for love of God!” Cas stopped and let her team pass by, mentally name checking each as they did so. Where the blazes was Craddock? Blast! He’d stopped in the middle of the hallway. He was standing on his tippy toes, arms up, touching the ceiling cables. There was some kind of junction box there. “Craddock! Come on, man!” she hissed.

Craddock sheepishly met her gaze, gathered his kit and trotted up beside her. “Sorry, boss. Setting insurance.”

“Stick together!” she snapped. “You know better. We don’t want to get separated down here.”

They caught up with the others as they entered a large, multilevel chamber. A large circular monitor was mounted on the east wall, flanked by a circular interface ports and a passageway. A balcony wrapped around the room about six meters up.. Along the base of the walls were heavy metal gratings, behind which ran thick, insulated cables. A large metal transformer, sixty feet high, dominated the centre of the chamber. Ripples of energy passed up its length. It was set into a trough lined with machinery. 

“What about this?” asked Craddock, opening up his satchel and approaching the column. “It looks important.”

“Perhaps,” muttered The Doctor, approaching one of the monitors. “Voltage conversion for the fission stacks. Only there’s no power running through it.”

“How do you know?”

“Sensitive to energy fields. There’s only enough to keep the circuit active.”

“At least we haven’t run into a Dalek patrol,” said Cas. “Our luck is holding. Sanjay, Ian, watch the exits.” 

Ian grunted and hefted his Phoenix launcher. “Bring’em on, guv.”

The Doctor walked over to the monitor. “Yes, it is convenient, isn’t it? Almost too convenient…” The Doctor placed a hand on the interface panel and the screen swirled to life. “Neural interface. Interesting,” he muttered. The monitor flicked through neon green floor plans in rapid succession. 

Cas and Fiona walked up beside him. “Where next?”

“Susan’s just up ahead. I can feel it. But I want to get a lay of the land before we go in, to be on the safe side. Oh… Now that’s odd—”

The south door clanged shut. 

Daleks flooded into the room from the two eastern passages, the tunnel north, and onto the balcony above, six in total. They were led by a Red Dalek, who emerged from the north east passage.

“YOU ARE SURROUNDED! SURRENDER OR BE EXTERMINATED!” it boomed, levelling its weapon at The Doctor.

Doctor Who and the Universe of the Daleks: Chapter 14: Into The Breach

Welcome to another bite-sized chapter, abridged for the Tik Tok generation! Who says an old tiger can't change his stripes, or medium, or apps, or service provider? Is blogging even a thing anymore?

Wendy stooped down and picked up a large rock, lifting it up using her knees. Proper form was key to avoiding injury. Injury was death. The Daleks swiftly disposed of anyone unproductive. Her work team had been shoring up the hanger tunnel all day. Ten hours? Twelve? They’d been given a ten minute break, then sent topside and reassigned to debris clearing. There’d been a few incidents of rocks damaging the saucers: as they rose out of the tunnel, their antigrav engines sometimes caught up debris in their wake vortice. 

This would be the last shift of the day. Phil and Molly had retrieved wheelbarrows from the work shed depot. 

She walked over to Phil’s and dropped the rock in with a clunk, wiped sweat from her brow, and risked a glance over her shoulder. The Dalek had moved on, checking on other work details to the north. The two robomen unrolled their whips and walked among the slaves, slashing at them if they dared to pause. One was tall with red hair, the other built like a boxer. His name had been Madden. He’d been a slave for several months before he’d been converted. 

He’d always shared his bread ration. 

As he approached, she quickly bent down and grabbed another rock, following his progress out of the corner of her eye.  

As she stood, she noticed another work detail walking out from behind the work shed. It was coming in their direction. Wendy squinted. She didn’t have her glasses, but this lot looked much better fed than was typical. Their clothes, too, were in good condition. And the boots! What wonderful boots they wore, she thought enviously. Several held bundles wrapped in cloth. 

Strange. 

Who were these privileged prisoners? 

Ah. They were actually making for the access shaft. 

One of the robomen peeled off and walked towards her. Madden went to intercept, to confer, as was roboman custom.

They exchanged a few words. Too far away for her to hear. She had to keep busy putting rocks into the wheelbarrow. But she did notice Madden stiffen. That meant he was waiting for orders. Something untypical was happening. The other roboman stepped neatly past him and approached Wendy.

He piqued her curiosity: this roboman moved a little too fast, too surely. 

“Don’t react,” said the burly fellow. His face was stoic, but his eyes! His eyes were lively. Expressive. Wendy looked him over: he wore a pristine flight suit and carried a good deal of equipment, including something wrapped in a sack slung over his shoulder. A shovel, perhaps? He was armed with a submachine gun, and his strong chin was covered in stubble. “You’re Wendy? Just nod.” 

She gaped. He sounded normal! Impossible! Had his helmet short circuited? Had he killed a roboman, and stolen it? Should she alert the other roboman? Would they kill her for failing to?

“My name’s Sergei,” he said with a big, toothy grin. “I’m with your sister. I’m here to rescue you.”

Doctor Who and the Universe of the Daleks: Chapter 13: Sergei And The Pit

No, not that pit. The one in alternative-future Bedfordshire, 2150 A.D.

Sergei peered up over the edge of the construction material disposal pit. There was a work shed directly ahead, and stacks of broken planks to either side, high enough to obscure line of sight. “It’s clear,” he said over his shoulder, and hefted himself up over the edge. “Come on!” He crept over to the shed and peeked out. 

The access shaft was directly ahead, across a muddy field littered with large chunks of rock. The shaft was ringed by metal sheeting mounted on wooden pylons driven deep into the mud. There was a single deeply inset bronze metal door; an open stairwell was beside it with a thin metal railing. 

There was a faint ping. A light above the bronze door lit up, the door swung to the side, and a Dalek hovered out over the metal sheeting, followed by two robomen. They flanked the stairs as a stream of exhausted workers in tattered clothes trudged out and formed a line.

“Pizdets!” swore Sergei softly. No way they could get past that lot unnoticed. Fortunately, that might not be necessary. Ben and Craddock came up behind him. 

Both were wearing silver metal robomen helmets!

In a fabulous stroke of luck, they’d found two robomen corpses under a pile of loose rocks in the tunnel. Both had been shot, and their helmet location beacon smashed. Probably killed by the black marketeers. One of the helmets had been caved in at the back, but if not examined too closely, no one would notice. 

The work team out there was definitely too close. 

He felt a small hand on his shoulder. “Wendy!” blurted Cas.

Sergei looked back at her with alarm. “Ssh! They will hear.” 

Cas flung out an arm and pointed. “That’s my sister,” she hissed, pointing at a petite woman in a torn blue dress at the end of the line of slave workers. “She’s alive!”

Well, thought Sergei, that complicates things. 

Sergei straightened up behind the shed and pulled Cas back with him.

He considered a moment. As much as he wanted to deliver destruction to the Fascist tin pots, he knew the team needed Cas more. The revelation that Cas' sister was alive would break her focus. Family bonds were strong, as Sergei knew. “I will save her,” he whispered to Cas. “You go ahead. Complete the mission. You only need one helmet.” He snapped his fingers at Ben. “Helmet please.” 

Doctor Who and the Universe of the Daleks: Chapter 12: Hate Is Purity, Purity is Hate

Am I timely or what?!?

Red Dalek Gar glided confidently into the Infinity Forge, followed by a metallic blue domed science Dalek and a gold Dalek with gloss black sensor globes. They stopped, forming a line, before the imposing Time Strategist. Gar had brought the lead of the conversion team along in anticipation of operational review by SKARCOM. Any operational eccentricities would fall on the Strategist!

“DALEK SU REPORTING,” grated the Gold Dalek. 

“Excellent,” exulted the Time Strategist, sweeping in an arc around them. “EXCELLENT! Its memories are intact? It is aware of its former existence as Susan?”

“AFFIRMATIVE,” said Gar. 

Dalek Su’s energy compensators flashed: “I SEE THE PATH: HATE IS PURITY. PURITY IS VICTORY. VICTORY IS SURVIVAL—” 

“LOG OBJECTION!” the science Dalek interjected, jittering in situ. “THIS IS AGAINST ALL PROTOCOL. COMBINED WITH ACCELERATED GENE BATH POSES CONDITIONING ISSUES. ALIGNMENT CANNOT BE—”

“SILENCE!” snapped Kur. “Your generation has no appreciation for the beauty of annihilation. The Doctor’s progeny, his genetic future, has not merely been snuffed out, but co-opted by his most hated enemy! This is a resounding triumph in its own right!”

“IT YIELDS NO OBJECTIVE RESULTS,” blared the agitated science drone. “EMOTIONAL IMPACT IRRELEVANT!”

“On the contrary,” purred Kur languidly. “Psychological warfare is supremely efficient: destroy their spirit and you destroy their physical capabilities without wasteful resource expenditure. You must learn to think beyond hygiene protocols. The material. Not only will this cripple The Doctor’s cognitive functioning, it will be intensely pleasurable to witness. You will see. Is the ambush prepared?”

“ALL UNITS ARE IN POSITION.” 

“Excellent. Initiate stage one power build-up of Project Infinity. Victory is at hand!”

Doctor Who and the Universe of the Daleks: Chapter 11: Mission Impossible

It always is, with The Doctor, isn't it?

The Doctor and Cas crouched down and scampered up to the crest of the ridge overlooking the Dalek mining site. Fiona was waiting for them; she handed a pair of binoculars to Cas. 

The Doctor took a few moments to process the view. A dozen massive, conical structures of reinforced Dalek concrete ringed the western side of the site, their open tops belching pillars of white steam. Thick cables ran down to a huge rent in the earth, two soccer pitches in diameter, at the centre of the compound. At each point of the compass was a cylindrical access shaft. Five meters down the hole, sectioned metal roofing, undergirded by a web of support struts, extended slowly inward. A building sized crane, mounted on a dozen railway tracks, ground back from the pit’s edge. 

Overlooking the site to the north was a sheer cliff face, into which was built a looming Dalek installation of metal and concrete. To the West was a helipad, beside which squatted a domed structure with a ring of tubes extending out from the top, which glowed phosphorescent blue-green: Taranium processing!

Thousands of human slaves swarmed about like ants: extending the helipad with tiling, laying new building foundations, setting up metal sheeting around the hole, and clearing away construction detritus, all while watched by robomen armed with whips and submachine guns. A few Dalek supervisors were stationed in overwatch positions.

Odd there weren’t more about.

The Doctor shifted his gaze to the outer defences: the camp was ringed by a three meter high wire fence with wooden towers every fifty meters, manned by robomen. Twenty meters of barren earth extended out on either side, in which nothing grew.

“That Death Strip will be difficult to cross in daylight,” grumbled Cas, handing the binoculars to The Doctor. “There are Dalek hover tracks running along it, but no external Dalek patrols I can see. Best to wait till dark.”

“That’s at least two hours away. May be too late,” said the Doctor quietly. He looked over his shoulder as Sergei, Ben and Craddock moved up beside them. Ian, Sanjay and Reuben stood guard at the base of the ridge. “They’re preparing for something. Clearing out the workers. Odd they’re closing off that shaft. Was it here the last time?”

Cas shook her head. “We did have intel, about two months ago? One of their primary battle saucers hovering over the site, on columns of searing white light, followed by blasts of thunder. Perhaps that was related, cutting it out.”

Fiona gestured to the north. “There are some old human-built access shafts, from before the Daleks occupied the site, along the ridge. Black marketers use them. Exit in one of their waste pits. We’d need a ladder, but it would allow us to bypass the outer security.”

“We passed an abandoned fire truck half a click back,” noted Ben. “It had ladders.”

“Good thinking,” said Cas with obvious relief. She got up and tapped Ben on the shoulder. “Right, take Sanjay and grab a ladder. We’ll secure the tunnel. No Slyther?”

Fiona paused a moment, as if in a trance, then said: “It’s for construction waste material, not bio waste.”

The Doctor pondered the gaping hole in the earth. Whatever the Daleks were planning, it required a great deal of power. Taranium introduced another wrinkle: it was used in Dalek time travel technology. “The question is, what do we do when we get in there?”

“Blow up that command complex,” said Craddock, patting a satchel at his waist. Each of them was carrying six packets of Craddock’s high explosive putty and three detonator sticks. 

“We need to target key infrastructure of Project Infinity.” The Doctor nodded at the cliff installation. “That’s the operations hub, but is it the crux of Project Infinity?”

Craddock merely shrugged. 

The Doctor took stock: “Right. What do we know? They’re digging into the core of the earth. Taranium, Eye of Harmony, and my granddaughter means they’re also messing with time. All are definitely interconnected. Odds are co-located.”

“Makes sense” said Cas. “But that just leads back to the command complex, doesn’t it?”

“What about the power cables?” asked Sergei. “If we cut those, it’ll cripple whatever it is they’re doing.” 

“Good thought, but not necessarily. Now shh!” snapped the Doctor. “I need to concentrate.” He sat down cross legged on a flat rock just below the ridge. He rested his wrists on his knees, palms opened upward, and closed his eyes. 

With calm, regulated breathing, he cleared his mind, just as K’anpo Rimpoche had taught him all those lives ago. 

At the very edge of consciousness, he felt the faintest echo of Susan’s recursion loop. Not enough to contact directly. There was far too much psychic noise. Angry Dalek cognition spikes. But he could determine the direction of Susan’s cognition. He locked in on it, then snapped open his eyes. Unsurprisingly, he found himself staring at a point beneath the earth, slightly to the east of the main shaft. “That one,” said the Doctor, pointing at the east access cylinder stub. “The operational hub for Project Infinity is down there.”

Craddock scowled. “Based on what?”

“Call it a gut instinct.”

He had to get down there!

Cas considered. Then: “Agreed. We aim for the east access shaft. Let’s move people!”

Messiah Elect

Religion and politics?

Doctor Who and the Universe of the Daleks: Chapter 10: The Dark Musings of Dalek Tyr

Tyr was frustrated. Not only was it uncomfortable being latched on to the back of a dirty ape, the human wasn’t filtering out enough of the Terran atmospheric contaminants. Tyr was being slowly poisoned, orbit by orbit. 

Drowning in human stink.

And yet Tyr had managed to outwit the humans, successfully blend in long enough to reach the outskirts of the Bedfordshire mining complex. 

Unfortunately, they hadn’t run across a single Dalek patrol. Where were the perimeter drones? What was going on? 

They’d only encountered mindless Slythers, which were as likely to devour Tyr as the humans, and witless robomen. These disposable automatons were as likely to shoot Tyr on sight as take it prisoner. 

They were not programmed for edge cases, or nuance. 

No, Tyr needed to surrender the humans to a Dalek patrol. Call out in Dalekese through the human, or better yet, get close enough for a telepathic connection. 

Without getting exterminated first.

Even then, it would be risky. Tyr calculated a 75% chance he would be exterminated merely for merging with human filth. 

To cleanse a possible disease vector. 

Why take the risk of contamination?

To be accepted back into Dalek society, Tyr needed a victory. A dramatic one. Anything less and the risk of being discarded as defective was too great. 

If, however, Tyr were to intervene against the human terrorists at the last moment, thereby preventing a colossal disaster… if Tyr saved Project Infinity, for example, that would prove its superlative worth! 

No review commission could then assign Tyr to the discard pools. 

It’s earlier defeat would be forgotten!

As its human host continued to mindlessly march forward, Tyr considered. The young female was intelligent for its kind, and might believably deduce vulnerabilities in the Dalek facilities. A few hints might be enough. The Doctor had a formidable intelligence… perhaps no intervention would be necessary. That would be safer, in case any were captured alive. 

It was a high risk, high reward strategy. 

But Tyr liked the alternatives even less.