#dalek beta

[legendofthephoenixsblog]

My personal ranking of named Daleks from the TV show and Big Finish. These are the Daleks that I have gotten to know from watching or listening to the stories they are a part of.

I've scored Dalek Sec's human hybrid form lower than I wanted mainly because we didn't get to see a lot of him.

[aidaran-alha]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fifteenth Doctor/Rogue (Doctor Who) Characters: Rogue (Doctor Who) Additional Tags: Angst, Light Angst, Character Study, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, no beta we die like daleks, lonely Summary:

What's left once you've waited for an eternity? ------ He started the slow process of building himself a more durable home, finally accepting he’d be there for a long time. Had he been someone with the head on the skies, like the Doctor, he would have convinced himself it was pretty pointless, as he’d be rescued soon, before finding out what winter was on that planet.

But Rogue had never been that kind of person.

[inastarlesssky]

You know what?

I'm going to just do it. I wanted to write an Allonswin and looked everywhere for a beta, couldn't find one and then despaired and threw the idea away.

But I really want to write them, even if it's just that one stupid scene that won't leave me alone (Ten being the one to rescue her from the Dalek Asylum).

I'm going to write it myself.

But not right now, else @tina-mairin-goldstein will come after me because I promised I wouldn't pick up any more WIPs until I finish one. Right, my friend? XD

[interestingturnofthetables]

Ain’t no way the 2nd Doctor just named these (nice?) Daleks Alpha, Beta, & Omega 😭

The way that has aged is just so

[boywhoswaiting]

Sibling just finished evil of the daleks and literally all they cared about was Alpha, Beta and Omega

[girl-hwat]

oh god, my heart breaks for Alpha, Beta, and Omega dalek

[wadbot]

ENERGIA.WAD: Energia 1.01 MAP11 (-488, -1360, 0) Author: Dimensionality Date: 1997-06-21 Description: 20 maps on Skaro. Single player or Coop to steal the Daleks' new Time Disruptor; Deathmatch: Prevent your opponents from getting the Time Disruptor -- the last map is a race to the finish This version does NOT require DeHackEd. If I remembered to include the DeH, be warned it's a VERY early beta... testing suggestions welcome, but note the date... this should be superceeded pretty soon, as if anyone out there still plays with Doom II... Caveat: whilst I prominently label this as 1.01. not all the probs in 1.0 are fixed. 8-\

[veraynes-blog]

Hi! 28, 41 and 49? 👀

28. Does anyone read your fics before you post them? If so, who?

No, I've never worked with a beta before, and none of my irl friends are into fandom so there's no point sharing fics with them. (Boyfriend did recently stumble on my tumblr and AO3 though, which gave me conniptions ngl. 😐)

I think that's why I'm always so chatty in comments and asks! You guys are my only fandom interaction, I need the engagement in my enclosure! 😅

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

Okay, I don't think this is a style of writing I'll ever be able to successfully imitate, but I think it's absolutely stunning - Salinity (And Other Measurements of Brackish Water) by drawlight. It's a Good Omens fic with just beautiful, delicate, stream-of-consciousness prose that make my heart ache in the best way. All drawlight's works are similarly gorgeous, but that was the one I first came across and which stuck with me ever since. 💕

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

I'm currently continuing work on my John Smith/Simm!Master AU. It's up to 16k now! 😁 I can't decide what part would be best to share, so here's a few lines I thought were cool about the Master encountering John's Book of Impossible Things:

The Master opened the first page of the notebook, blinking as he was met with a few messy sketches. They weren't particularly coherent, so he flipped to the next page. More sketches, a few scrawled sentences. Among outlines of shapes that didn't quite make sense, the Master thought he recognised roughly placed star constellations, notes of what might have been coordinates. He kept going, moving through the book. With each page, the drawn images became bolder, more detailed. Here a landscape that very clearly depicted nowhere on Earth. Here a dalek's detailed metal shell. Here a botched diagram of the Acteon Galaxy. A mathematic equation that trailed off into nonsense, with the lower half of the page obliterated by a furious scribble and spilled ink. It was an ugly collection, the Master decided. Knowledge butchered on every page. A Time Lord's vast experience reduced to childish scrawl.

"They're just… flights of fancy, as I said." John watched self-consciously as the Master paged through the book. "Dreams I have, or-or waking dreams, sometimes. Silly, really."

The written sections were becoming longer, less like hasty notes in the margin and more like samples of prose, or perhaps the diary entries the Master had first supposed. I dreamed, each one began, like some desperate disclaimer. The Master ran his finger over the words, feeling where they'd been pressed too harshly into the paper.

"Just stories," John repeated faintly.

Thanks for asking! 🥰

[go-to-the-mirror]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: Gen

Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)

Relationship: Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Characters: Ninth Doctor (Doctor Who), Henry van Statten

Additional Tags: Whumptober, Whumptober 2023, Ninth Doctor (Doctor Who) Whump, Medical Torture, Vivisection, Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Episode: s01e06 Dalek, Hurt No Comfort, Minor Ninth Doctor & Rose Tyler, Title is from a line in the dalek novelisation, which you should all read right now, Mentioned Rose Tyler, Spoilers for Episode: s04e17-18 The End of Time, Captivity, Non-consensual surgery, No beta we die like ten

Words: 807

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

The Doctor sends the TARDIS and Rose back to her time, and Henry van Statten has a unique alien specimen all to himself. --- “You’re going to die, van Statten,” he says. “You’re going to die because you won’t listen.” “And what do you think will happen to you, Doctor?” The Doctor doesn’t answer --- Written for Whumptober 2023, day 11. Prompts used are captivity and “No one will find you.”

Warnings:

Captivity

Non-consensual surgery

Restraints

Torture

Vivisection

 

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Work Header

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category:

Gen

Fandom:

Doctor Who (2005)

Relationship:

Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Characters:

Ninth Doctor (Doctor Who)

Henry van Statten

Additional Tags:

Whumptober

Whumptober 2023

Ninth Doctor (Doctor Who) Whump

Medical Torture

Vivisection

Torture

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Canon Divergence - Episode: s01e06 Dalek

Hurt No Comfort

Minor Ninth Doctor & Rose Tyler

Title is from a line in the dalek novelisation

which you should all read right now

Mentioned Rose Tyler

Spoilers for Episode: s04e17-18 The End of Time

Captivity

Non-consensual surgery

No beta we die like ten

Language: English Series: ← Previous Work Part 11 of Whumptober 2023, ← Previous Work Part 2 of Season 1 Episode 6 Dalek Collections: Whumptober 2023 Stats: Published:2023-10-11Words:807Chapters:1/1Comments:2Kudos:4Hits:26

Alien Dissection

NebbyAxolotl

Summary:

The Doctor sends the TARDIS and Rose back to her time, and Henry van Statten has a unique alien specimen all to himself. Written for Whumptober 2023, day 11. Prompts used are captivity and “No one will find you.”

Notes:

For bloopdydooooo.

Written 10 Oct. 2023. Content warnings in the end notes. Anyway yeahhh babyyy i’m writing the same fic but Again because I like making 9 suffer. I’ve written half the fics in the vivisection tag in this fandom. Brian you need to get on that.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“With your… girl gone, no one will find you, Doctor.”

The Doctor looks up at van Statten, it’s hard to look anywhere but up, in the position that he’s in. “That’s why I did it.”

“Not the best of decisions,” van Statten responds, amicably.

“That thing you’ve got there.” Van Statten sighs, the Doctor continues regardless. “It’s a monster. It’ll kill everything.”

“So you send your only mode of escape away. Wise.”

The Doctor wishes he could move, could do anything but lie there, because he’s well aware of how his current situation undercuts his point. “That Dalek, if it escapes—“

“Which it won’t,” interrupts van Statten.

“Which is could. If it escapes — when it escapes — it’ll kill its way out of your museum ,” he spits the last word, he’s shaking, he can feel it. “And it’ll kill everyone on Earth.”

“I think you’ll find that humans are better at handling threats than your species was.”

The Doctor laughs, because how wrong can you get. His species stood a chance against the Daleks, that’s more than any other ones could say.

(His species would’ve killed the universe just as much as the Daleks would’ve, and he can’t think about that, he’s told himself he’d never think about that again.)

“You’re going to die, van Statten,” he says. “You’re going to die because you won’t listen.”

“And what do you think will happen to you, Doctor?”

The Doctor doesn’t answer him, and van Statten leaves.

---

The Doctor likes to think that humans tend towards goodness. It’s not that that’s a lie , per se, but it’s not entirely the truth.

See, humans are good when they can see something as the same as them. It’s that sense of kinship, it’s what a lot of species that reach space have in common. It’s also what makes them so dangerous, both to their own species and to others.

It’s not all humans who fear the unknown, but it’s enough to make it so when faced with something different, humans will fear it or assume superiority, often both. And when faced with something they need to distance themselves from, when faced with something they want to hurt, they’ll try their best to see their victim as not a person at all.

This is a long winded way to say that he’s afraid. Afraid of what the scientists — or he assumes they’re scientists — in the room mean, what they’re going to do to him, why haven’t they told him, is that a scalpel?

He’s almost glad Rose is gone. She can’t see this.

“Sedate him,” van Statten says.

“It doesn’t work,” he responds, and he hates it, hates how broken his voice sounds.

“What?” van Statten asks, coming properly into view.

“Anaesthetic,” the Doctor replies. “It doesn’t work.”

The Doctor knows it’s not going to stop him, but at least the Doctor won’t have to deal with what’s about to happen to him with a tube stuck down his throat.

Van Statten makes a gesture to someone and the table where he’s lying is made completely horizontal. Then someone straps his arms — stretched out to either side — legs, even head down. They’re strong, the restraints. What are they planning on doing to him?

“Open him up,” van Statten says, and he can’t help it, his hearts start to race.

The person with the scalpel doesn’t meet his eyes. There’s a pause before it happens, and then they finally make a cut and the Doctor would be writhing in pain if he weren’t strapped down so thoroughly. Instead he screams, wordless.

Through the haze of pain he hears van Statten murmur, “That’s amazing,” and then he’s screaming again, because they’re doing something , and he can’t hear above his own screams.

The Doctor can’t see, can’t see anything but the ceiling and occasional glimpses of van Statten and the scientists who are doing this to him. He’s straining so much against the restraints that he’ll have bruises, provided he lives, because this hurts so much he’s going to die, he’s just going to die.

There’s a pause. The Doctor’s screams peter off into cries, and he hates himself for it, because he can’t even breathe, can’t even get himself to wheeze out that the Dalek is dangerous.

“That’s fascinating ,” van Statten says, and then there’s the pain again, and the Doctor needs to get away, get away from him, but he’s held fast and helpless and all he can do is scream again.

---

They’ve closed the Doctor up, but they haven’t unrestrained him, not even slightly. Haven’t even moved him. He doesn’t want to think about what that means for him.

He doesn’t want to think about a lot of things, least of all that he’s just another oddity in van Statten’s museum, and that his only hope of rescue is in London in 2005.

[chocolatequeennk]

Forever Timeless, 12/24

Summary: Two months after the Dalek Crucible, the Doctor and Rose are getting used to having the biggest family on Earth. As they visit Leadworth in 1996, Victorian England, a mysterious desert planet, and Elizabethan England, those family and friends often help in unexpected ways. But no matter where they go or who they’re with, it’s always the Doctor in the TARDIS with Rose Tyler–just as it should be.

Ten x Rose, Donna x Lee

Betaed by @rudennotgingr, @pellaaearien, and @jabber-who-key

Tagging @doctorroseprompts 

Part 7 of Being to Timelessness

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11

Chapter Twelve: It’s Pretty…

“I promise. I’m going to get you home.”

Rose held her breath after the Doctor gave his promise, but after a long moment, the tension on the bus shifted from fear and panic to hope. Rose smiled at the Doctor. She loved the way his words managed to calm people down, every time. Well, if he isn’t making them mad at least.

Oi!

She smirked, letting her tongue peek out a little. There’s not much middle ground with you.

He tugged on his ear. Yes… Well, just be glad this was the former. 

Then he bounced on his toes and grinned at their little band. “Excellent! So, let’s get started. The first thing we need to do is take the seats apart. We’re going to drive out of here on the backs of those seats.”

Nathan pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I’ve got a little Swiss army knife,” he offered. “I can use the screwdriver to get started.” 

“Excellent! Barclay, you help out.” The Doctor looked around at the group. “Does anyone else have tools on them? Pocket knife, et cetera?”

Lady Christina pulled her backpack closer, and he focused on her. 

“Christina?”

She hesitated, and he raised an eyebrow. “If we want to get home, we all need to work together. I don’t think an alien planet is what you meant when you said you were going far away.”

Christina sighed and unzipped her bag. “Here,” she said, handing Barclay an axe. “That should help you get the seats taken apart.”

“Excellent. Now, who wants to see if we can get this bus started?” He glanced to his right. “Angela?”

She nodded. “I can do that.” 

“Thank you.” The Doctor held out his hand for Rose and she stood up with him. “Rose and I will take a closer look at the bus while you get started. There might be something else we can use that we haven’t noticed yet.”

So, this seems a bit more serious than we thought, Rose said as they left the bus.

You mean Carmen’s vision that death is coming? He nodded. I’ve got a strong sense that we don’t have much time. Let’s make the bus an actual backup plan, in case Jenny doesn’t get to the TARDIS in time.

Lady Christina hopped out of the bus before Rose could agree with the Doctor’s assessment. “Hold on. You’re the man with all the answers. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes before he turned around. “Was I out of sight? I thought you could see me through the windows.”

Christina pursed her lips. “You know what I mean. Come on, there’s something more going on here, isn’t there? That little machine, the wormhole, Carmen’s prediction…” 

He shook his head. “We were investigating the… anomaly. We hadn’t finished our investigation, hence we have no conclusions. However, I intend to keep working.”

They were thankfully interrupted by Barclay and Nathan before Christina could push further on the subject of Carmen’s prediction. They’d only just calmed the group down—they didn’t need her to stir up the fear again. 

Each young man carried a seat back, flourishing them proudly as they joined the Doctor, Rose, and Christina. “Here we go,” Barclay said. 

“That’s my boys.” He paused; they could hear the thud of an axe inside the bus. “Who did you give the axe to?”

Barclay pointed at Donna, swinging the axe over her head. “She said she’d take it.” 

“Oh, I bet she did,” the Doctor muttered.

Rose laughed and shook her head. “Focus.” 

He blinked. “Right. The seat backs.” He took Barclay’s and held it flat, parallel to the ground. “See, we lay a flat surface between the bus and the wormhole, like duckboards, and we reverse into it.” 

“Let some air out of the tyres,” Christina chimed in. “Just a little bit. It spreads the weight of the bus, gives you more grip against the sand.” 

“Good idea,” Rose said. She waited to see if Christina would acknowledge her at all.

Christina glanced at her, then smiled up at the Doctor. “Holidays in the Kalahari.” 

Barclay gestured at the wheels, half buried in the sand. “Yeah, but those wheels go deep.”

The Doctor scratched at his sideburn. “Yeah, we’ll have to dig them out.”

“With what?” 

The Doctor looked at Christina. “I don’t suppose you have any other tools in that backpack of yours.”

She reached into her bag and handed a collapsible shovel to the Doctor. “Use this.” She smirked at the Doctor as he passed the shovel on to Barclay. “I told you, I’m prepared for every emergency.”

Thankfully, Christina’s boasting was interrupted by Angela’s call from the bus. “I can’t find the keys.” 

“Oh no, buses don’t have keys,” the Doctor explained as he jogged back to the door. “There’s a master switch, then it’s one button to start, the other one to stop, yeah?” 

“Right. Hold on.” Angela studied the control panel for a second. “Oh, I’ve got it.” She flipped the master switch and took a deep breath. “Here we go. Hold tight. Ding, ding.” 

Rose held her breath as Angela hit the start button. For a moment, it seemed like it would work. The engine grumbled a little, but given the circumstances, that was expected. 

But when that rough rumble turned to an unhappy whine, she walked around the bus and pulled off the engine cover. The Doctor was only two steps behind her, and together they stared at the sand pouring out of the engine. 

He reached in and brushed a few bits of sand away. “Oh, never mind losing half the top deck. You know what’s worse? Sand. Tiny little grains of sand. The engine’s clogged up.” He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “Too bad we don’t have Mr. Mickey with us.”

“He could fix this easy,” Rose agreed. “But maybe…” She returned to the other side of the bus. “Either of you know mechanics?” she asked Nathan and Barclay.

Barclay dropped his shovel. “Me. I did a two week NVQ at the garage. Never finished it, but—”

Rose grinned. “And I never got my A levels,” she replied. “Come on, see if you can help us out.” 

Back on the other side of the bus, Rose pushed Barclay forward. “Barclay here has studied mechanics at a garage—same program Mickey did back when we were in school.”

The Doctor brightened. “Off you go then.” He nodded at the open engine. “Try stripping the air filter. Fast as you can. Back in two ticks.”

Rose stepped forward and took the Doctor’s hand. “Yeah, we’re going to take a quick look around, see what we can figure out about our surprise destination.”

She pulled out her phone and sent Donna a quick text as they walked away from the bus. We’ll be right back. Keep them focused and positive.

They’d only gone a few steps when they heard Christina come up behind them. The Doctor turned and shook his head. “We’ll be right back. You should stay with the others.” She opened her mouth and he quickly cut her off. “Who knows if they might need something else you have in that bag of yours.”

She stiffened, and he raised an eyebrow. What does she have in that bag?

After a few seconds, she sighed and turned back. “Whatever it takes to get off this planet.” 

I can’t tell if she’s flirting with you, or if she just has to be the centre of attention, Rose said as they started walking again.

A little from column A, a little from column B, the Doctor suggested.

They’d only gotten to the top of the first dune when Rose’s phone chimed with a new text message. She glanced at it quickly, hoping it was from Jenny. Instead, Donna’s reply made her laugh.

Next time, you can stay behind with Posh Spice.

“Donna’s not too impressed that we left her behind with Christina,” she told the Doctor.

The Doctor snorted. “No, I can’t picture them getting on.” He paused, then said, “Lady Christina, who jumps at sirens… I wonder what she was doing back in London.” 

Rose raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you noticed her reaction.” 

“She was sitting right in front of us, Rose.” 

“And you’ve never missed something that’s right in front of you?”

“Wellllll…”

Rose changed the subject as they climbed another dune. “If Carmen’s right and that wormhole isn’t an accident, that explains why it feels so unfriendly.”

The Doctor hummed his agreement. “The faster we can get off this planet, the better. I don’t care if we take a bus or the TARDIS—we just need to get out of here, now.” 

Rose shivered, despite the three alien suns. “Yeah, we do.” 

“But first, I want to get an idea of what might be out there.” 

Rose didn’t argue. The Doctor’s insatiable curiosity in the face of danger got them into trouble more often than not, but it also tended to be what got them out of trouble. After all, you couldn’t fight a problem you didn’t know you had.

But when they got to the top of the next dune and saw the hazy, glittering cloud in the distance, she wondered if maybe they should have just gone back to the bus. 

“Ah, don’t like the look of that,” the Doctor muttered.

The unfriendly feeling amplified. “I don’t think that’s a sandstorm, Doctor.” 

He shook his head. “No, neither do I. And it’s getting closer.” 

Without speaking, they both turned around and started running at an easy pace back towards the bus, following their own footsteps across the sand. 

I need your phone, he said once the bus was in sight. UNIT will be at the site back in London, and we need help figuring out what we’re facing. 

Rose reached into her pocket and handed it to him. He unlocked it and scrolled through the contacts as they jumped the stairs into the bus.

Donna glanced over at them and dropped the axe when she saw the looks on their faces. “All right, what’s going on?” 

“Nothing,” the Doctor lied. “We just need to make a phone call.” 

“You’re hardly going to get a signal,” Christina protested. “We’re on another planet.” 

“Oh, just watch me,” he said and hit dial, followed immediately by the speaker button.  

The phone picked up on the first ring. “This is the Unified Intelligence Taskforce.” 

The Doctor took a breath to launch into his speech, but the voice—which he now realised was a recording—continued.

“Please select one of the following four options. If you want to—” 

“Oh, I hate these things,” the Doctor groaned. 

“If you keep your finger pressed on zero, you get through to a real person,” Angela offered eagerly. “I saw it on Watchdog.” 

The Doctor held the 0 down and the phone rang as he was transferred to another line. “Thank you, Angela.” 

“UNIT helpline. Which department would you like?” 

The Doctor sat down and took a deep breath. “Listen, it’s the Doctor. It’s me.” 

The pause on the other end of the line was almost unnoticeable, and when the officer spoke again, their voice was brisk and no-nonsense. “Yes, sir. How can I help?”

“There’s a bus that went missing in the middle of London. I need to talk to whoever is onsite.”

“Please hold while I transfer you, sir.” 

The Doctor leaned his head against the window behind him and waited. Finally, after what felt like forever, another UNIT operative spoke. 

“Doctor? This is Captain Erisa Magambo. Might I say, sir—it’s an honour.” 

There was something in that pause, almost as if… “Did you just salute?” the Doctor asked, slightly incredulous.

A brief pause, then, “No.”

Rose put her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, and the Doctor rolled his eyes at her.

“Erisa, it’s about the bus. HQ said you’re at the tunnel, yeah?”

“And where are you?” she replied, answering his question without wasting either of their time. 

“We’re on the bus.” He stood up and peered out at the expanse of golden sand. “But apart from that, not a clue, except it’s very pretty and pretty dangerous.” 

“A body came through here. Have you sustained any more fatalities?”

“No, and we’re not going to, but we’re stuck.” He flopped back onto the seat and got to the point of his call. “We haven’t got the TARDIS, and I need to analyse that wormhole.”

“We have a scientific advisor on site. Dr. Malcolm Taylor. Just the man you need. He’s a genius.” 

“Oh, is he?” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”

“Rude!” Rose hissed. 

“I’m surprised he managed to go this long without insulting someone,” Donna retorted. 

“Oi!” The Doctor looked at Lee, but the other man just shook his head. “Oh, fine.”

The sound of a door opening and closing came through the phone, and the Doctor focused on the call. 

“It’s the Doctor,” he heard Erisa tell the supposed genius, Malcolm Taylor. 

“No, I’m all right now, thanks. It was just a bit of a sore throat. Although I’ve got to be honest, a cup of tea might be nice.” 

The Doctor pinched his nose—Dr. Taylor sounded every inch the absent-minded professor. He tried to stay hopeful that he’d be able to help them scan the wormhole.

“It’s the Doctor,” Erisa said, leaning heavily into the article.

“Do you mean… the Doctor Doctor?” Malcolm asked, breathless.

The Doctor groaned internally. He could already feel Rose’s amusement, and between her and Donna he knew he would be teased mercilessly over the apparent hero worship from UNIT.

“I know,” Erisa agreed. “We all want to meet him one day, but we all know what that day will bring.” 

The Doctor flinched. Hero worship wasn’t his favourite thing, but it was better than being considered some kind of harbinger of doom. “I can hear everything you’re saying,” he cut in, wanting to redirect the conversation.

“Hello, Doctor? Oh, my goodness!” Malcolm exclaimed.

The Doctor leaned away from the sound exploding out of the phone’s tinny speaker. “Yes, I am. Hello, Malcolm.”

Malcolm giggled nervously. “The Doctor. Cor blimey. I can’t believe I’m actually speaking to you. I mean, I’ve read all the files.”

“Really?” The Doctor perked up, his vanity momentarily distracting him from the situation at hand. “What was your favourite, the giant robot?” He shook his head quickly. “No, no, hold on. Let’s sort out that wormhole.” He got up and stepped past Christina to exit the bus. “Excuse me.”

Rose, Donna, and Lee all followed, and the foursome stood together under the suns, impatiently waiting for Malcolm to help them.

As they stepped outside, the Doctor could faintly hear Erisa talking in the background. “On speakerphone, please. I don’t want anyone keeping secrets.” 

Ooh, we’ll need to be careful we don’t tell her anything too dangerous, he thought, recognising the tone. She wanted to know what kind of threat the wormhole posed so she could close it if they needed to. On the surface, that sounded like a good idea, but until he knew the TARDIS was on her way, he needed the wormhole to stay open.

The Doctor paced under the suns. “Malcolm, something’s not making sense here. I’ve got a storm and a wormhole, and I can’t help thinking there’s a connection. I need a complete full range analysis of that wormhole. The whole thing.” 

“Well, I’ve probably got the wrong idea, but I’ve wired up an integrator. I thought it could measure the energy signature.” 

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” The Doctor rubbed at his forehead. “That’ll never work. Listen.” 

Malcolm continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “It’s quite extraordinary, though. I’m measuring an oscillation of fifteen Malcolms per second.”

The Doctor stopped pacing. “Fifteen what?”

“Fifteen Malcolms. It’s my own little term. A wavelength parcel of ten kilohertz operating in four dimensions equals one Malcolm.”

The Doctor’s jaw dropped slightly. “You named a unit of measurement after yourself?”

“I’m more impressed that he could measure in four dimensions,” Rose pointed out.

“Is that Rose Tyler? You’re both there?” 

Rose blinked. “Yeah, we’re both here.” 

“Oh, my goodness!” Malcolm breathed. “Both of you! I never thought…” 

“I’m the one impressed, Malcolm,” Rose said, bringing him back to the point at hand. “You managed to measure something in four dimensions?”

“Well yes,” he said, sounding matter-of-fact. “And yes I did name it after myself,” he added, answering the Doctor’s question. “It didn’t do Mr. Watt any harm after all. Furthermore, one hundred Malcolms equals a Bernard.” 

The Doctor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And who’s that, your dad?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s Quatermass.”

Rose and Donna laughed, and the Doctor let out a breath on a long hiss. “Right. Fine. But before I die of old age, which in my case would be quite an achievement, so congratulations on that, is there anyone else I can talk to?” 

“No, no, no, no, but listen,” Malcolm said, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. “I set the scanner to register what it can’t detect and inverted the image.”

The retort the Doctor had ready died on his lips. “You did what?”

There was an anxious pause. “Is that wrong?” Malcolm asked finally.

“No. Malcolm, that’s brilliant. So you can actually measure the wormhole. Okay. I admit that is genius.” 

Malcolm laughed giddily. “The Doctor called me a genius.” 

“I know. I heard,” Erisa said quellingly.

The Doctor cut in, wanting to get things on track. Time was running out. “Now, run a capacity scan. I need a full report. Call me back when you’ve done it.” His thumb moved to the end call button, but he paused for one last comment. “And Malcolm? You’re my new best friend.”

“And you’re mine too, sir.”

The Doctor ended the call and handed the phone back to Rose. 

“What was that all about, Spaceman?” Donna asked. “The Doctor, and read all your files, and we all want to meet you? They acted like you’re some kind of celebrity or something.” 

“Wellll… When you’re an alien who specialises in dealing with extraterrestrial threats, and you’ve spent centuries saving the Earth over and over again, you develop a bit of a reputation.” 

“Well Colonel Mace wasn’t that taken with you,” she rejoined. “You got no gushing the last time we met UNIT after all.”  

“Anyway! Rose and I are going to check out that storm. I want to get some images for Malcolm to analyse.”

“What do you want us to do?”

He gestured at the bus. “Keep working. Get the wheels dug out, the engine cleaned…” 

“Yeah, but why are we even bothering with the bus? Jenny will bring the TARDIS and we’ll all get home, easy peasy.”

“B-b-backup plan,” Lee answered.

The Doctor nodded. “Correctamundo!” He stuck out his tongue and screwed up his face. “Oh, I was never going to say that word again.”

Rose shook her head. “Come on, let’s get going. The sooner we get out there, the faster we can get back. I’m not keen on being on our own in the middle of a sand storm, or whatever it is.” 

The Doctor nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. “Allons-y, Rose Tyler.” 

oOoOo

Donna sighed as she watched the Doctor and Rose walk away. Realistically, she knew it made sense for her and Lee to stay at the bus and keep things going, but she didn’t like the feeling of sitting still when they were in danger. Plus…

“Well, are we going to keep working on the bus or are we going to stand around in the hot sun all day? Personally, I’d like to get back to Earth.”

Donna turned and glared at Christina. “Yeah, we’re going to work on the bus. We’ve got Lee and Barclay cleaning out the engine, I’m taking apart the seats, and Nathan is digging out the wheels. Angela’s helping Nathan until we’re ready to start the bus… Which leaves you, Lady Christina. How do you plan to help?”

Christina walked to the opposite side of the bus and rummaged in her pack. “Here, this might help when you get most of the sand out,” she said, handing Lee a small brush.

“Thank you.” Lee stuck the brush in his shirt pocket and helped Barclay pull the filter out of the engine.

Christina looked back at Donna, a smirk on her face. “Just doing what I can to help out,” she said blithely.

Donna was ready to snarl at her, but then the snobby aristocrat did something she did not expect. She sat down by the back wheel and pulled a gold cup out of her bag and started digging into the sand.

“What is that?” Donna shrieked.

Christina kept digging. “Just something I picked up earlier today.” 

Donna heard Lee stand up and walk over to her side. “That’s the cup of Æthelstan,” he said. “It’s been in the International Gallery for centuries, except for a brief period when it was…” His eyes narrowed. “When it was stolen.” 

Donna looked from Lee to the cup and back at Lee, then the pieces clicked. To Lee, the theft was history, but they were watching it happen in real time. 

Christina tossed another cupful of sand off to the side. “I like to think I liberated it.” 

“No no,” Donna said, rocking back on her heels. “Activists liberate zoo animals, and protesters might knick pillaged cultural works to take them home. You’re just a thief.” 

“Hang on,” Barclay said. “There were sirens chasing us earlier, when we were on the bus. They were after you, weren’t they?” 

Christina shrugged. “What can I say? The Metropolitan Police can’t get enough of me.” 

Donna wanted to snark that they’d get plenty of her as soon as they all got back to London and she was handed over to the police, but she had a strong suspicion that if she did, the lady would refuse to help them get home. 

“Right,” she muttered. “I don’t have time to stand around chatting. I have to get the seats taken apart.” 

Hacking away at the seats was the perfect outlet for her anger. After she’d gotten another seat back dismantled and handed it to Nathan, she felt calmer. 

She sat back and tried to smile at Carmen and Lou, but the older woman was gripping the seat in front of her and staring blankly ahead. 

“So fast and strong,” she murmured. “They ride the storm. They are the storm.”

Lou put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “But what are they?” he asked. 

Carmen’s head snapped over to look at him. “They devour.” 

Donna tossed the axe onto the seat and sat down. “Oh, well that’s just lovely.” 

Carmen ignored her, still looking into space with that eerie, unseeing yet sees too much gaze. “There’s something new,” she said, her voice sharper. 

Donna jumped to her feet. Her first thought was to run after the Doctor and Rose, but she had no idea which direction they’d gone. 

A phone call will have to do.

oOoOo

Rose waved to Donna, then took off with the Doctor over the dunes. She grabbed his hand and swung it lightly, and glanced sideways at him. “Sooooo…” she said, with a lilt in her voice. “It sounds like I have some competition for the spot of the Doctor’s number one fan.” 

He pressed his tongue against the backs of his front teeth. “That was… interesting, wasn’t it?”

He hip checked her, and when Rose glanced up at him she recognised the smug smile. “But I’m not the only one with a fan club, it seems! Malcolm was just as excited to be talking to you as to me.” 

Rose felt her cheeks warm, but she gave the Doctor a smart nod and a saucy wink. “About time someone realises I’m not just your plus one.” 

From the top of the next dune, they had a view of the whole desert. The storm glittered ahead of them, and the Doctor filmed it with Rose’s phone. “I’m going to send this back to Earth and see if Malcolm can analyse that storm,” he said as he dropped the images into an email to UNIT. 

Rose squinted at the clouds. “Do you see the way those clouds are shining?” she said. “There’s something in there.”

“Like metal,” the Doctor agreed. “Why would there be metal in a storm?”

“Tornadoes pick up all kinds of debris,” Rose suggested.

“But where did it come from?” He held his arms out, indicating the sandy dunes surrounding them. “There’s not exactly a lot of metal lying around here.” He pursed his lips and stared at the storm. “No, there’s something else…” 

Rose jumped when her phone rang. “Hi, Donna. How are things on your end?”

“Not bad. We’ve got the wheels just about completely dug out. Even Lady Christina has been helping.” 

She took a breath, and Rose realised this wasn’t just a status update.

“Rose, listen. Carmen says there’s something new. I don’t know what that means, but I thought I should warn you.” 

Rose heard a clicking sound behind her, like the sound of the antennae of an insectoid clicking together. She turned slowly and stiffened when she found a giant fly, pointing a weapon directly at her.

“Thanks, but you’re a little late.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Just keep working on the bus.” Rose pressed the end call button and slowly slid her phone back into her pocket. 

“Doctor.” 

“Hmmm?”

“Turn around.” 

“What?” He turned. “Oh. Well that’s a complication I hadn’t anticipated.”

Rose held her hands out in front of her and the Doctor copied her. She waited for him to speak, but when he did, it was in the clicks of the fly’s native tongue.

“You speak their language?” she asked, then quickly shook her head. Of course he did, and right now, he had to. Without the TARDIS on the planet, there was no way for the translation matrix to provide a direct translation to the alien.

I can help with that, the Doctor said, pulling Rose deeper into the bond.

The fly shook his head and his antennae bobbed. “We won’t wait. You will face justice now.”

Rose blinked again; now she could hear the clicks of the insect language and also telepathically hear the meaning from the Doctor. She appreciated being brought into the conversation, though it was disconcerting to hear it in two languages at once.

The Doctor turned his hands slowly so his palms faced the sky. “Before we face justice, could we have a chance to explain?”

Rose held her breath. There had to have been some kind of misunderstanding, but it was never a given that they’d be allowed to explain.

The alien rocked back on his heels, then swiftly gestured with the weapon. Rose and the Doctor turned and walked ahead of him, keenly aware the whole time that the weapon was pointed at their backs. 

oOoOo

Twenty minutes later, Rose’s legs were burning. “Remind me to add a beach workout to the routine,” she muttered to the Doctor. “Walking on sand is nothing like running on a hard surface.” 

His foot slipped and he skidded a few steps, his arms flailing. “Agreed,” he grunted once he caught his balance. 

But at the top of the next dune, they finally saw where they were going. Rose narrowed her eyes at the cruise liner, split almost in half on the sand. “Were they caught in the wormhole like us, do you think?” 

“Could be,” he agreed. “Their ship is even more damaged than the bus.” 

A knot tightened in Rose’s stomach. “Doctor, they said we’d face justice. What if they think we’re behind the wormhole?”

“Then we’ll have to convince them we aren’t.” 

Rose sighed in pleasure when they walked into the ship. “Oh, this feels brilliant,” she said, luxuriating in the feeling of the cold air on her skin after being fried by three suns for almost two hours.

“Mmm. The hull’s made of photafine steel. Turns cold when it’s hot. Boiling desert outside, freezing ship inside.”

“Able to regulate the temperature… Reminds me of someone I know.”  

The Doctor winked at her and narrowly missed running into a piece of tubing that was dangling from the ceiling. Rose shook her head. 

“Better watch we’re you’re going, Doctor.”

He ducked under the next piece of dangling broken spaceship. “Oh, this is beautiful.” 

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous,” Rose agreed. “Imagine what it must have looked like when it was intact.”

“Mm-hmm. A proper streamlined deep spacer.” 

They reached the bridge and met a second alien. Their captor walked around them and stood beside his crew mate. The newer alien tapped a round button on his jumpsuit and it turned purple.

Rose felt the Doctor relax.

“Oh, right, good. Yes. Hello,” he said, sounding considerably less on edge than he had. He nodded at the purple button and explained. “That’s a telepathic translator. He can understand us.” 

“Oh good. It didn’t feel fair that I could understand them but they couldn’t understand me.”

The aliens’ mandibles clicked, and Rose realised belatedly that admitting she’d been able to understand them the whole time might not be the best move. But instead of waving their weapons at her, they turned to each other and had a quick conversation, deciding who would do the talking.

The second alien, who they now knew was the captain, prevailed. “You have committed an act of violence against the Tritovore race,” he said, the Doctor still telepathically translating for Rose. “According to Article Fourteen of the Shadow Proclamation, we will claim justice against you for your crimes.”

The Doctor’s easy manner disappeared. “Now hold on—”

But the alien wasn’t finished detailing their crimes. “You came here in the two hundred to destroy us.” 

The Doctor blinked. He’d been getting truly upset, but that non sequitur threw him off. “Sorry, what’s the two hundred?”

“I think it’s the bus, Doctor. Must have been the two hundred line.”

“Oh.” He rocked back on his heels, processing that for a moment. “Oh! No, look. I think we’re having a bit of a misunderstanding. I’m the Doctor, by the way, and this is Rose. We got pulled through that wormhole. The two hundred doesn’t look like that normally. It’s broken, just the same as you.”

The aliens looked at each other. “They didn’t do it?”

“They didn’t do it,” the second agreed. Both of them lowered their weapons and relaxed their stance.

“Did they just… believe you?” Rose asked incredulously. “Just like that?”

The Doctor nodded. “That telepathic translator,” he explained. “It can tell if you’re telling the truth.” 

Rose’s eyes widened. “Might be nice if we could have a few of those to use on some people we meet.”

“Right!” The Doctor jogged over to the control panel. “So, first things first. There’s a very strange storm heading our way. Can you send out a probe?” he asked, scanning the panel for a button. 

The captain shook his head and waved his tentacles. “We lost power in the crash.”

“Oh.” Well, that explains why none of the panels are lit up. He leaned forward and listened, hoping to hear some kind of hum indicating the motor was still running. All he heard was a faint clicking sound. “Hmm, the crash knocked the mainline crystallography out of synch.” He straightened and grabbed a lever for leverage. “But if I can jiggle it back…” He kicked the ship and the panel lit up.

The Doctor grinned and rocked back on his heels. “I thank you,” he said smugly.

“You’re a genius!”

“Yes, I am. Frequently.” With the ship now running properly, his fingers danced over the controls. “Okey doke, let’s launch that probe.” 

Rose stepped forward and took his hand. “While we wait for the probe to reach the storm, maybe we can figure out where we are.” 

“Right you are, Rose.” The Doctor pulled up another panel and tapped in a command. A holographic image popped up in front of them, reminding the Doctor of the display at the Shadow Proclamation.

He recognised the splash of orange and red against the greens and blues. “The Scorpion Nebula. We’re on the other side of the universe.” The image zoomed in on the star system, then on a single planet. “The planet of San Helios.” 

Something about it seemed off to Rose, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

Behind them, the Tritovores started talking again. “We came here to trade with San Helios. With a population of one hundred billion, they are a rich source of material for us to absorb.”

Rose glanced at them over her shoulder. “By material for them to absorb, they mean waste matter, don’t they?”

The Doctor nodded. “Yeah. They feed off what others leave behind from their behind.”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “Well, I guess they are flies.” 

The image on the screen switched to a picture of a bustling city with high rise buildings surrounded by green parks. 

“San Helios City,” the Doctor told her .

Rose slid her hand into his. I love exploring new worlds with you.

He hummed happily in the back of his throat and squeezed her hand. Oh yes.

They watched the video overview of the city, high rise buildings surrounded by so many green parks. Rose narrowed her eyes, and she finally realised what had seemed off about the planet. 

“Yeah… it’s a bit green for a desert planet, isn’t it?” the Doctor agreed. “Could just be that we’re on another continent, but there was a lot of blue and green on that planet.

“Let’s see if my hunch is right…” The Doctor pulled up another control screen and slid a map on screen, next to the picture. He typed in his query, and a red dot appeared in the middle of the map.

Behind them, the aliens clicked in agreement. 

“So… San Helios city,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. “We’re in it right now.”

Rose stared at the picture, at the beautiful buildings, and she said the first thing that came to mind. “Well, I guess we know where that storm got the metal.”

“Ooh, good point Rose!” The Doctor slid over the image of the city and opened the meta data. “And this picture was only taken last year. Whatever caused the city to turn to dust, it happened fast.” 

Rose’s mind immediately went to Carmen. “All those people… they left a psychic imprint when they died, didn’t they? That’s what Carmen is hearing.”

The Doctor nodded. “She’s hearing them die.” He knelt down and picked up some of the sand. “I said there was something in the sand. The city, the oceans, the mountains, the wildlife, and a hundred billion people turned to sand.” 

Rose stared at the sand trickling through the Doctor’s fingers. “So that picture of the planet… it’s not that we’re on another continent, is it?”

“Nope. Something destroyed the whole of San Helios.” 

The cheerful jingle of Rose’s mobile ringing disrupted the solemn atmosphere that had fallen over them. “Hello?”

“Hi Mum.” 

Rose’s stomach tensed; Jenny sounded stressed. “Hi Jenny, what’s up?”

The long, slow breath before Jenny answered didn’t ease Rose’s tension. “We’re almost to London, but traffic’s picked up a bit. And by a bit, I mean a lot.”

Tension flowed both ways over the bond, and Rose knew the Doctor had heard. Rose rubbed at her forehead. “Where exactly are you?” she asked.

“We just passed the turning for the M25.” 

Rose pursed her lips and nodded. They were almost to Chiswick then, but with traffic who knew how long it would take them to get to the TARDIS?

Her phone beeped with another incoming call. Rose glanced at the display quickly before putting the phone back to her ear. “Listen, Jenny, we’ve got another call. Just… get the TARDIS here as quickly as you can, okay?”

She didn’t wait to hear Jenny’s acknowledgement before handing the phone to the Doctor. “Unknown caller. Probably Malcolm.”

He grabbed it and accepted the call. “Malcolm, tell me the bad news,” he said without preamble. Between what they’d learned about the planet and Jenny’s call, there was no way Malcolm had good news.

“Oh, you are clever,” Malcolm breathed. “It is bad news. It’s the wormhole, Doctor. It’s getting bigger. We’ve gone way past one hundred Bernards. I haven’t invented a name for that.” 

The Doctor rubbed his eyes. A wavelength parcel traveling in four dimensions at more than 100,000 kilohertz per second… The damage that could do was massive. “How can it get bigger by itself?” he asked.

“Well, that’s why I’m phoning,” Malcolm said matter-of-factly. “You’ll work it out, if I know you, sir.” 

The Doctor’s hearts thudded painfully at the amount of trust Malcolm was placing in him. Now he had to not only get everyone on the bus back to Earth, he also had to save the planet… again.

Erisa cut into his musings. “Doctor, we estimate the circumference of your invisible wormhole is now… four miles heading upwards. I’ve grounded all flights above London. We can’t risk anyone else falling through.”

The Doctor nodded; excellent thought. “Good work, both of you.”

“But I have to know.” 

He tensed; he knew what question was coming next.

“Does that wormhole constitute a danger to this planet?” 

Rose’s phone beeped halfway through Erisa’s question. The Doctor sighed in relief.

“Oh, sorry. Call waiting. Got to go.” He accepted the second call. “Yeah?”

“Doctor, it’s Donna. We’ve got everything ready, but—”

“It’s my fault,” Angela sobbed in the background. 

The Doctor could faintly hear Nathan trying to console her, but it didn’t sound like he was having much success. 

“What’s wrong, Donna?”

“Well, you wouldn’t happen to know where the nearest petrol station is, would you?”

The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose and started pacing. “You kept starting the engine, hoping it would turn over, and you ran out of petrol.” 

“Yeah.” 

He stared out at the sand that had once been the vibrant San Helios City. They had to get off this planet, the faster the better. Jenny was stuck in traffic trying to get to the TARDIS, and their backup plan had just fallen apart.

“We’re on our way.” But as the Doctor slid Rose’s phone into his jacket pocket, he had no idea what they would do once they got there.

[a-writhing-mass]

Hi I just need to say your dalek fic has scratched so much of my brain itches and I love it. It’s beautiful prose, and I really wanna get more into the other daleks brains, especially thay’s since we haven’t gotten to see her mindset yet. It all makes me think of Sec basically attracting like minded weirdos that didn’t fit in as well to the dalek empire either and finding solace that they aren’t the only ones after all, even if it’s buried deep under like twenty layers of repression. Idk, I just really relate to the idea of ‘struggling to fit in with society and almost breaking because of its expectations until you find others struggling just as much as you and finally you can carve out your own space now’. Of course that’s just me projecting, might not even be what you intended with it all, but hey it’s what my brain started thinking.

Ahh thank you so much for the comment. I'm glad some folks seem to enjoy it. <3

Gunna put my rambling reply under a cut to spare folks walls of text~

I hope you don’t mind me replying. And don’t worry if you feel like you're projecting anything – we all do that at some point. We all need someone or something to relate to. I totally understand the feeling of not fitting in. It's probably why I find I often relate more to the non-human or least popular characters in media.

As for the Cult I’ve been using their little origin story, Birth of a Legend as a base for trying to figure them out. It’s the only other bit of ‘canon’ media about them I’m aware of.

Granted there’s not even much to work from in that, sadly. It's only a few pages long and was clearly written for children (nothing wrong with that!) but don't expect anything particularly deep or expansive should you get your hands on a copy of it.

The only clues to the other Daleks personalities might have is the ranks they had before the Cult of Skaro was created and the scant few lines they had in the show. In that story the Emperor put them together and gave them their names because they showed ‘rare initiative’ - although we only learn of what Sec did to catch the Emperor’s eye.

As nice of an idea it would be that a group of oddball Daleks would form on their own accord (Genuinely, would love to see such a story!) I could only really see it happening in extreme circumstances - and said group would immediately have to go into hiding to avoid being punished, probably exterminated, by their own kind, or other advanced species for that matter (technically this has happened before in the comics - but with Alpha and Beta, and those Daleks had initially been humanised by the Doctor. Unfortunately their end wasn't exactly a happy one either).

I don't really see the Emperor allowing an unconventional group like the Cult of Skaro to have such power without having approved it all in the first place - the Emperor apparently doesn't even allow more than three Daleks to have a meeting without his approval first. There's a word for it in the Dalek dictionary, if you consider that canon (at least it's something Terry Nation wrote). (Brindigulum- "a conference or talk between four or more Daleks. None may be held without the Emperor Dalek's agreement.") He is quite the paranoid, tyrannical, little critter and I think it only serves to imply just how desperate he was getting before he created the Cult. I'm not even convinced even the Emperor views them as a good thing, considering he named them a 'Cult'. That suggests he wants other Daleks to be wary and critical of them.

But despite all that, it's still entirely possible, probable even, the Cult developed some kind of camaraderie and solace from being in one another’s company for so long. Even, as you say, if it's buried under ‘20 layers of repression’.

I think it’ll be fun to develop their personalities further. Other than Sec, I think it likely Jast is the most open to change. He’s quiet and observant, and was the Force Leader of the Outer Rim Defensive Battalion.

Thay seemed to be the most outspoken one, maybe even a little argumentative. My guess is she might like discussion and brainstorming ideas– being the one with the scientist background (Commandant of a very secretive research station, Station Alpha). And I know some may argue Thay ‘slipped up’ when talking to the Cybermen and revealing their species but I think it was intentional. The Daleks wouldn’t want to talk in circles for long. They had a mission to complete.

Caan, once an ‘Attack Squad Leader’, I imagine being a bit sneaky. A bit ambitious. Very aggressive. And also perhaps the most loyal – though during the events of the Manhattan arc that loyalty was stuck on the Dalek Empire, then when we saw him later in the finale of the 4th series his loyalty had 180’d to Sec and the Doctor. I think he’d be the hardest to ‘break’.

And I think they’d all be rather imaginative and inventive (up to a point) otherwise they never would have intrigued the Emperor so.

Considering the Dalek’s ancestors were once peaceful philosophers, scientists and teachers I like to think that they all still retain those traits. They’re just buried deep. Very deep. And any sense of peace has been beat and brainwashed out of them. It'll take a lot of work to undo all that and pull those old traits back out into the open.

[thirddoctor]

There is a lot of talk recently about how hypocritical it is that the DW as a show condemns Daleks for being racist against everything non-pure-Dalek and at the same time considers the one to be beyond redemption for the "crime" of being born Dalek even if they try to be good ("Evil of the Daleks", "Dalek", "Daleks on Manhatten"...). Do you think we need to see a redeemed Dalek (who lives after having redemption)? We already have one redeemed Sontaran, which was unthinkable even as recently as during RTD era

I thought I was basically up to speed on all the stupid discourse in the fandom but that's a new one. If people are struggling to grasp that the actions of the show's main villains are not being presented as morally correct then that's on them lol. I think there are interesting ways you can explore the Dalek philosophy and use it to say something about the nature of fascism and racism/xenophobia but like... I don't think we need Dr. Who to look directly into the camera and say Daleks are bad to get the idea.

As for whether or not we should have redeemed Daleks, I'm fine with that. I love Rusty, the Dalek from Dalek, Alpha, Beta,Omega, etc. I was genuinely interested in the random Dalek in Power of the Doctor who was trying to stop the other Daleks and was disappointed when they completely wasted its potential. I'd love to see more complex Dalek characters.

My opinion is that it's very difficult for Daleks to break free of their hatred, because it's basically been programmed into their DNA, but if they have any level of free will/autonomy at all then I think it's possible and I'm always interested in stories about individuals overcoming their society/upbringing/nature and choosing to be something better. I don't think that's in any way endorsing or excusing fascists - quite the opposite.

So yeah, I'm not sure we need to see a redeemed Dalek, but if RTD wants to do that kind of story then I'm totally open to it.

[kirsty585-scottiegirl585]

So I've kinda started a new Helen/Liv Fic but to be honest I'm not sure if it's good enough.

Basically set in the future when Earth has branched out and started to create mini colonies/outposts on other planets. Helen goes as a researcher. The planet was invaded by Daleks, who with the help of some human guards have taken over. Thinking it will be kinda like Nixyce Seven situation (even though I haven't yet listened to that story.)

Helen and Liv will be working together to get rid of the Daleks, as well as getting together. Probably going to also feature the 13th Doctor and River.

So... Yeah basically just wanted to see if it sounds interesting to anyone and also if anyone is interested in possibly beta reading what I've already written and the rest of the story if I decide to go through with writing it.

[ao3feed-doctorxrose]

Pink in the Night

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/C3M0yEs

by kcchameleon

The scene we all wanted to see if that bloody Dalek hadn't rudely interrupted Rose and the Doctor's reunion in Stolen Earth.

Words: 2472, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who), Rose Tyler, Donna Noble, The Doctor (Doctor Who)

Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler

Additional Tags: Reunions, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Reunion, The Doctor/Rose Tyler Reunion, The Doctor Loves Rose Tyler, POV Tenth Doctor, Fluff, Feelings Realization, Love Confessions, First Kiss, First Real Kiss, Rewrite, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, slight AU, unbetaed, no beta we die like jack (but then we come back ;) ), Giving into feelings, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Song: Pink in the Night (Mitski), I Wrote This While Listening to Mitski's Music, Inspired by a Mitski Song

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/C3M0yEs

[pennamesmith]

What if I told you there’s a classic Doctor Who episode where the Doctor creates three friendly Daleks with the capacity to love and names them Alpha, Beta, and Omega.

[regenderate-fic]

Blooming in the Bitter Snow (Right Before the Dawn)

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Yasmin Khan Rating: General Word Count: 3,636 Other Tags: Revolution of the Daleks, References to Greek Myth, Doctor Who: Flux, Character Study, Pre-Relationship

Read on AO3

Summary: After ten months, the Doctor is like the sun: too bright to look at. Yaz knows this will happen again-- but then, the Doctor knows too.

NOTES: this is a birthday gift for katniss but i guess the rest of you can read it too. it is also retribution for getting me into hadestown. anyway happy birthday ❤️❤️❤️

(and shoutout to gabe riptheh for betaing if it's bad you have to blame him for not telling me)

title is from hadestown

(hehe note from december felix katniss and i saw hadestown and it FUCKED. don't ask me about reeve carney do ask me about grace yoo)

1.

Yaz is stuck.

Yesterday, she had the universe.

Today, she has Sheffield. 

It’s not that Sheffield is bad. Yaz had always lived here, and it's always been fine. She used to like it here, even. Back when she was younger. Back before she knew there were any other options.

But now— there's nothing wrong with Sheffield. It's just not where she wants to be. 

She’s back living with her family. Sonya’s taken over her room, so she’s living in Sonya’s, with its awful orange paint and childhood belongings scattered about. 

It doesn’t matter, though. Yaz is never home. She’s not at work, either— she quit her job a month ago, in linear time, but it feels like years. 

The thing is, though, the stolen, unfamiliar TARDIS has become home and work, as far as Yaz is concerned. At first, it’s because Ravio and Ethan are living there, and Yaz is helping them get sorted with a job for Ravio and a school for Ethan and a proper place to stay for them both— every cell in her body is screaming, Find the Doctor , but Yaz forces herself to focus on the people right in front of her who need help before she goes off in search of someone else. It’s what the Doctor would do, after all.

But then Ravio finds a job, and then a flat, and he and Ethan move out to start their new lives on Earth, and Yaz is stuck. Ryan’s finally gotten a job as a mechanic, and Graham is settling into retirement, but Yaz can’t move past this: the stolen TARDIS, offensive in its blankness. The Doctor, currently defined by the space she’s left behind. And the question: why hasn’t the Doctor come back for her?

Ryan keeps trying to suggest jobs she could get. A social worker, he says, when she’s helping Ravio and Ethan get on their feet. Or a teacher, when she explains Earth history to them. It’s the day the two of them leave, when Ryan suggests Yaz go to school to become a psychologist, that she snaps. 

“I’m not giving up on her,” she says, but her voice rises until says becomes shouts, her boots planted on the firm white floor. 

“All right, then.” Ryan raises his hands in surrender. “Don’t bite my head off. Just, you know, it’s not all or nothing. You can look for her while you do other stuff.”

Yaz shakes her head, single-minded. “I have to find her.”

Ryan stares at her for another moment, and then he shrugs. “Suit yourself,” he says. “We’ll be around.”

He doesn't offer to help. Yaz doesn't expect him to. Her relationship to the Doctor is— it's different. Ryan and Graham joke around with her, jumping from adventure to adventure. And Yaz likes the jokes, likes the adventures, but— she also likes the late nights wandering the TARDIS until she finds the Doctor in her workshop, tinkering away, and sits on one of the benches as the Doctor narrates her work, occasionally looking up and giving Yaz a bright and earnest grin. She likes the serious moments, when the Doctor meets her eyes and, somehow, makes a tough situation a tiny bit better, just by acknowledging it. She likes seeing the Doctor every day, just knowing she's around. She still can't quite quantify why exactly her relationship with the Doctor is   different from Ryan's, but she knows, keenly, that it is. 

Ryan leaves, and Yaz gets to work. She's seen the Doctor pilot the TARDIS—she’s picked up a few of the basics. This console looks completely different, but she thinks she recognizes a few of the levers: not well enough to launch herself into the vortex, and definitely not well enough to choose where to land, but well enough that she has a place to start.

The next day, she goes out and buys a pack of sticky notes, three different colors of paper, and rolls of tape. 

At first, it’s almost fun— through the haze of her determination, she vaguely processes the joy she usually takes in a good puzzle, having a problem in front of her to solve. She identifies as many of the controls as she can, marking them with sticky notes, taping her notes up on the walls. 

It’s only after she’s identified everything she can that the hopelessness sets in. She’s labeled twelve different buttons and levers, but she’s only sure of three of them, and there are countless more. Time travel is complicated, she knows, and dangerous, and it’s already been three months without the Doctor before she’s even managed to start this project. Linear time is ticking away, and the rest of time, the convoluted path only the TARDIS can navigate, remains elusive.

But Yaz can’t give up. She can’t bear the thought of it: going back to her normal life, finding a job she only sort of didn’t hate, leaving the Doctor behind. Especially when the Doctor could be in trouble, in need of the rescue that Yaz is desperate to provide.

So she keeps going. Methodical, she goes lever by lever, button by button, categorizing, speculating, experimenting. As long as she doesn’t hit the lever that’ll actually launch the TARDIS, she figures, she’ll be fine, and so she lets herself poke and prod, taking constant and careful notes. 

(It’s pointless. She knows, deep down, it’s pointless. Either the Doctor will come back or she won’t, and there’s not much Yaz can do about it. She’s no Time Lord— she doesn’t know how to pilot a TARDIS. Not really. But if she doesn’t keep trying, she’ll sink deeper into her grief, and she can’t bear the thought. So she tries, again and again, a high-tech Sisyphus, pushing her rock up the hill until it falls.)

Weeks pass. Months.

Every day, Yaz misses the Doctor more. 

Ryan and Graham are still worried about her. Her family are worried about her, too, and doubly so because they don't know the truth about the Doctor or time travel or anything else— they only know that Yaz is looking worse with every passing day.

She can’t bring herself to care. She feels numb, dead to the world, anytime she’s not working on the TARDIS. She’s already written off this time— when the Doctor comes back (she has to come back), it will be like this never happened. It will be ghost time, time that passed, but didn’t.

And then, just when Yaz is sure she can’t bear it any longer, there’s the Dalek. Instantly, Yaz shifts her focus: it’s the same as before, with Ethan and Ravio. Even with her burning, desperate need to see the Doctor again, the safety of other people— the safety of the world — comes first.

She’s at Ryan’s and Graham’s kitchen table when she hears it. The most wonderful sound in the universe. Papers are blowing, Yaz’s hair is coming loose, and her eyes slip shut. It feels like she’s ascending, being lifted up through the fog that’s overtaken her in the last ten months— walking up from the Underworld, ready to see the light of the sun. 

When she opens her eyes, the TARDIS is there. Steadfast, blue, letters glowing gently. 

The door opens.

Yaz is so close to the daylight—

But the second the Doctor steps out of the TARDIS, the second the Doctor’s eyes land on her, her hope crashes into anger, and she’s fallen right back down onto the dirt. 

“We were worried about you!”

Ten months. She’s been waiting ten months. It’s felt like the longest winter of her life— and now she’s red hot, burning with the fury of having been left behind.

Even if it’s not the Doctor’s fault.

Even if she knows, full well, the TARDIS is unreliable. 

Even if under all the fury, there’s a quieter warmth, a warmth she’d been taking for granted back when the Doctor was around, blooming in her chest and skating across her skin.

(The fury dissipates, somewhat, when she brings the Doctor into the blank white TARDIS, when she sees the Doctor’s mouth drop open as she takes in the notes tacked up on the walls. It drops entirely when the Doctor looks at her with hope-filled eyes and asks if she’s coming along. “Two hearts,” she says. “One happy, one sad,” and Yaz will miss Ryan and Graham, but she can’t help but feel the sun golden on her face when she thinks she’s responsible for the happy heart.)

(The problem, of course, is that Yaz is very, very sure this will happen again. They lead dangerous lives, after all. And the TARDIS is unreliable.)

(The problem, of course, is that tragedy is a cycle.)

Intermission

The TARDIS is just the same as Yaz remembers, with a few exceptions. Steps in the console room, for example. And her room has changed slightly— evolved, perhaps, to fit the new version of Yaz that has emerged from the last ten months. Her bedspread has gone from purple to a red-brown, and the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling have gone from cartoonish to nearly photorealistic, swirling in fluorescent galaxies when she turns the lights off. She collapses into her bed, curling up immediately— she never sleeps as well at home as she does in the Doctor’s TARDIS. 

The next morning, she practically runs into the console room, not even trying to suppress her smile. The Doctor is already there, writing in a little notebook, and she turns around when Yaz steps closer, her eyes sparkling. 

“Good morning,” Yaz says, suddenly shy. She hasn’t been alone with the Doctor in the TARDIS before. Or— she has, in the sense that they’ve been the only two in the room, but she hasn’t, in the sense that Ryan and Graham have technically always been on board with them, even if they were far out of earshot. It feels different, now there's no chance of Graham wandering in with his tea, or Ryan poking his head through the door to ask if they want to play a video game. 

“Morning, Yaz!” the Doctor exclaims. She’s back to her usual bouncy self, of course— she never reveals her sadness for long. “Was waiting for you to wake up.”

Yaz smiles. “What’s in the notebook?”

The Doctor returns her smile with a grin. “How would you like to learn to fly the TARDIS?”

Yaz steps forward, barely believing her ears.

“You mean it?”

The Doctor nods, expectant. An impossible joy rises in Yaz's throat, threatens to spill out her eyes. Maybe, she thinks, it won’t be a cycle after all.

2.

Yaz watches, and the Doctor turns to stone. 

She can’t help but feel like her watching is what does it. Even though plenty of others are looking on, immobilizing the Doctor as wings sprout from her back. 

The angels’ weakness is in their observation, after all, and Yaz keeps watching the Doctor, even when she shouldn't. 

She almost dies, lunging forward, desperately reaching. It’s Dan who saves her, pulls her back, keeps her from her death.

And that's how she falls for a second time. 

It’s different, this time. Less familiar, for one: it’s a hundred years before she was born, in a time when half of England is still using chamber pots, and everything feels strange. 

But— the other difference is the Doctor.

She hasn’t left Yaz alone, this time.

Yaz feels the difference the second she and Dan and Jericho and Peggy get back to the village, before she even finds the hologram. She’s already composing a game plan in her mind, just like the Doctor would: get food. Get money. Get period-appropriate clothing. Find a way back to the Doctor.

It’s not until that night that her left hand drops into her pocket and meets cool metal, tugging it out to see the trapped crystal and smooth ridges of an unfamiliar device.

Hope wells up in Yaz. Or— not quite hope. Love , she realizes. Love, because whatever this is, it has to be from the Doctor, and that means the Doctor cared enough about her to leave her— well, to leave her something, even if she hasn't figured out what.

She will find her way back this time.

She doesn’t have a TARDIS, but over the last ten months, she’s learned to trust herself: she’s learned high gravity circus arts, bluffed her way through a peace treaty to rescue the Doctor from a hostage situation, and, in one memorable occasion, defused an actual bomb with one second left on the clock. She’s not the Doctor, but she is good.

By the time they’ve spent two weeks in the empty village, Yaz even has a plan. She’ll spread messages to the Doctor throughout the time period, hoping one of them makes it to the future. Might even try and make one big and permanent enough that the Doctor will see it from space in 2021. And while they’re doing that, Yaz will look for traces of time travel in the 1900’s: the Doctor isn’t the only time traveler out there, she knows, and someone is bound to have abandoned a bit of technology somewhere on Earth. Dan and Jericho are on board— they’re a little taken aback by her fervor, she can tell, but they want to get home. 

The hologram, of course, changes everything. It activates when Yaz is doing laundry, her arms burning with the effort of using a washboard. She’s been keeping it in her pocket, her one relic of the Doctor, when suddenly she hears a muffled voice.

The Doctor’s muffled voice.

She pulls the hologram out of her pocket, mouth hanging open, and watches as the Doctor, golden, untouchable, appears in front of her.

Yaz stares at her. 

She stares back. 

Except— she's not really staring at Yaz, is she? She's staring at the hologram— the hologram that represents Yaz— and— 

Has the Doctor been looking at her like this this whole time? With so much emotion in her eyes? Or is she only looking like this because Yaz isn't really there, because it's safe? Yaz is afraid to call the look loving , not when the consequences for being wrong involve the bitterest disappointment, but her breath catches in her throat anyway. 

She misses the Doctor. More than anything. 

For the next four years, she travels the world. She realizes, at some point in there, that she’s changing— she’s growing into someone new, someone separate from the Doctor, separate from Sheffield, separate from her family and the 21st century. It’s strange. Change is inevitable, of course, but the person she’s becoming is so shaped by the 20th century— shaped by the fashion and the technology and the social rules. She's gotten used to cobblestone streets and horse-drawn buses and traveling miles on rickety trains only to arrive somewhere with no electricity or plumbing, and she has to wonder— when she gets back to the Doctor, to the TARDIS and the convenience of 21st century life, will she even still fit? She still has her smartphone, tucked in a corner of her luggage, and it might even have a little bit of charge left. But she doesn't know, because she hasn’t tried to turn it on in months. She reads newspapers now, anytime she can get her hands on them. She knows how to book tickets by mail to sail abroad, even when her address isn’t quite fixed. She can lace her own corset and do her own hair in the complicated styles of the day, and after a few months of wearing impractical skirts and itchy collars, she’s finally found clothes that suit her. She’s formed an identity for herself, in this era, an identity that’s completely hers.

And yet, she doesn’t belong.

It’s not her era. It’s temporary, she knows it is. She will see the Doctor again. She will go home. And if she doesn’t belong in Sheffield anymore— well, she’ll have the TARDIS, all of time and space, to help her readjust.

It does remind her of the ten months. She says as much to Dan and Jericho, detailing those awful days and nights spent in the wrong console room. She’s got the same dull sense of detachment, the same laser focus on the Doctor. 

But… it’s different now. She knows what she has to do, and she knows how to do it. Even if she’s still not sure how she’s going to get back to the Doctor— even if some days, her mission is just, “Keep Dan and Jericho alive.” She's figured out how to fake it, how to act like she knows what she's doing, and slowly she realizes she actually knows. Maybe she knew this whole time. She manages to smooth-talk all three of them onto ship after ship, she manages to bandage a gash in Dan's arm with a piece of her own corset cover while camping deep in the woods, she manages to dispose of a dead body without a second thought. She's always prided herself on doing the things that need to be done, after all— if those things have evolved from tricky homework assignments and white lies to her parents to wilderness medicine and corpse disposal, well, that hardly matters. It's still got to be done. 

And, of course, she has the hologram. A ghost of the Doctor, keeping her company. Or maybe Yaz is the ghost, stuck in the past— it’s hard to tell, sometimes. Although— she doesn’t feel dead, this time. Not like before, when she barely went through the motions of keeping herself alive, when she did the same tests on the unfamiliar TARDIS every day until it became familiar but still impenetrable. She’s no longer a high-tech Sisyphus— she’s Odysseus, maybe, displaced in time as well as space, and sailing the high seas in the hopes of making it home. Odysseus has a crew, has control. 

Yaz always said she wanted to be in charge. 

She’s in charge now, leading Dan and Jericho through a convoluted set of tunnels. Technically Dan’s the one who knows the tunnels best, but they’re all used to Yaz being in the lead, and it’s a hard habit to break. So she’s in front, trying not to let herself hope too hard, trying to tamp down the feeling that she’s walking upward again, out of the Underworld, towards the 21st century sunlight. It’ll hurt too much if she’s wrong— if she falls again— but— 

But she’s right.

There’s a door to 2021. 

After four years of searching, it turns out it’s as easy as stepping across a threshold, swapping one tunnel for another. Yaz almost cries when she sees the modern font on clean plastic mounted to the wall, part of a museum display— and again when she sees the TARDIS, solid, stalwart. If it weren’t for the stranger in front of her, blocking her, Yaz would be running right to it, opening the doors, flying away.

The good news is she doesn't have to. The Doctor appears, suddenly, miraculously, and when the Doctor appears— 

She’s like the sun. She really is. Yaz has finally made it up to the Earth's surface, and now, after years in the darkness, she feels light again. The universe is ending, but the light is soft on Yaz's face.

For a split-second, she’s afraid of the Doctor seeing her. She remembers last time— standing in Graham’s living room, full of hope and whispered prayer, but then the Doctor looked at her, and the hope crashed into anger, plunging her back into a roiling darkness. 

But things are different now.

When the Doctor looks at Yaz— it’s like she sees her. She sees everything. Yaz is mesmerized. She can’t look away. 

There’s a lot going on, and the Doctor is frenetic, distracted, but she still takes a moment to pull Yaz into a hug, and the way she melts into Yaz’s body, just for a second, brings Yaz completely back to life, heals any lingering wounds, if only for the moment. And then the way she looks at Yaz when she asks if she’s okay— 

She does look at Yaz like that, then, even when it’s not a hologram, when there’s no time or space between the look and its recipient. 

Or at least, she does now. 

(The problem with tragedy is that it’s a cycle, and the problem with cycles, of course, is that they can be broken.)

Coda

Yaz steps into the console room. She’s back in 21st century clothes— slipping into the world of the living, finding her foothold.

The Doctor, standing at the console, straightens up. She looks tired, a weight in her shoulders and in the droop of her eyelids. Her eyes meet Yaz’s, and Yaz feels the corners of her lips rising into a smile. 

The Doctor smiles back. Not one of her big showy grins— no. She’s not performing right now. This smile is genuine. It’s real.

“I really did miss you,” she says, her voice soft.

“You, too.” Yaz is awkward, suddenly. She’s forgotten how she used to act around the Doctor. In four years, she’s been an adventurer, she’s been a friend, she’s been a codebreaker and a sailor. But she hasn’t been a copilot.

There’s an awkward silence, stilted in the presence of all their time apart, everything they haven’t said. 

“I was thinking,” Yaz blurts out. “We should invite Dan along. He was a good sport, back in the 20th century.”

The Doctor nods. There’s a shift in her demeanor, a flickering of a light, and she’s back at the console.

“Brilliant idea, Yasmin Khan,” she says, and Yaz’s stomach flutters to hear the Doctor say her name again. 

“Copilot?” she asks.

And at the Doctor’s responding grin, she knows she’s back home.