Doctor Who_ War Of The Daleks Part 3

Sam took a deep breath. 'Maybe it would be a good idea to check?' she suggested, with mock sweetness.

The Doctor laughed and bounded to his feet. 'What a good idea!' he said enthusiastically. He hurried past her, leaving her to follow in his wake. He stopped before he reached the console, staring up at the starscape. 'h.e.l.lo! We've got company.'

Sam followed his gaze, and saw a small image of a starship of some kind. The USS Enterprise it wasn't. It looked like something a couple of model-makers might have a.s.sembled if they'd dropped a couple of kits together, scrunched them around and then decided they had to use every part while imbibing ferocious amounts of alcohol. It was basically a couple of elongated egg shapes, with dozens of engine nacelles, spikes, fins, and k.n.o.bbly bits stuck to it. In short, it was an eyesore.

'Is that "company" as in "good company" or as in "rape, plunder, and pillage"?' she asked politely.

'The former, I hope,' he replied. 'At least, it's no design I've seen before.' He frowned as he examined it. 'In fact, it's a bit of a hotchpotch, isn't it?'

'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,' she told him with mock pomposity.

'Then I think someone's seriously overdue for their eye test.' The Doctor crossed to the console and started flicking switches. The opera cut off, which was blessed relief as far as Sam was concerned. 'Well, they're certainly heading this way. I wonder if they'd care for a spot of tea?'

'To drink or to swim in?' Sam asked him. She was starting to get a trifle blase about meeting strange alien species.

'A good point,' he conceded. He bent to examine the controls. 'That's odd...' He was about to slam a fist down on the panel when he caught himself. 'That's right, I disengaged the drive, didn't I?'

Sam eyed the growing ship with concern. Maybe the visitors were friendly, but given her adventures so far, she wasn't willing to gamble her life on it. 'Maybe now would be a good time to re-engage it,' she suggested. 'I mean, I'm sure they're real party people, but it would be nice to have an escape option if we need it.'

'Always keep your escape options open!' the Doctor agreed enthusiastically, nodding furiously. 'Quite right.' He started working on the controls, with one eye still on the image above them. 'That's interesting. It's a Bussard ram jet. I haven't seen one of those in centuries.' He smiled at her. 'Do you know what they are?'

'Yup.' The Doctor's face fell just a fraction. 'I've been doing some reading,' she informed him. 'Jane's s.p.a.ceships.' Sam had reckoned that knowing something about them couldn't hurt. 'They're powered by drawing in interstellar dust and junk.' Sam had reckoned that knowing something about them couldn't hurt. 'They're powered by drawing in interstellar dust and junk.'

'That's right,' he told her. He pointed to two thick fins on either side of the ungainly craft. 'Those are the intakes. They suck up whatever's in their path, and use it for fuel. Very efficient.'

'Doctor,' Sam said, trying not to panic quite yet, 'In case you haven't noticed, we're in their path.'

Realisation dawned suddenly. 'Oh, good grief!' he muttered, and returned to work feverishly at the controls. It was starting to look like it might be a good time to panic. 'Don't panic,' he said, without looking up. 'It's just a few minutes' work.'

'OK, fine,' Sam replied, her stomach starting to pitch. 'I'll boil us an egg or something to pa.s.s the time.'

The Doctor looked at the controls in desperate hope. 'The HADS! Maybe they're working still.'

'HADS?' she asked, running her fingers through her short blonde hair.

'Hostile Action Displacement System,' he explained. 'Surely I told you?'

'That's what made the TARDIS disappear when it was attacked back in the 1890s!' cried Sam, remembering back to an earlier adventure. 'So will it get us out of this?'

'Conceivably'.

'Try definitely!' she said. 'Set them now, to be on the safe side. Then we can just hop out of the way.'

'I can't do that unless the drive's on line.'

'Oh...' Sam glanced up. The ship filled almost the entire ceiling now. 'Please tell me you've fixed the drive,' she said, quite pleased with her coolness.

The Doctor looked slightly bemused. 'I haven't. But if you think it would help, I could tell you anyway '

The TARDIS gave a shudder, and Sam grabbed the edge of the console.

'Magnetic lock,' the Doctor said, worry in his voice. 'We're in the scoop. Hang on! This may be a b.u.mpy ride!'

Sam locked her hands in place. 'The TARDIS is indestructible, right?' she asked, trying to fight the panic that was growing. 'We're not really in any trouble, are we? It's just going to be rough, right?'

'Rough, yes, yes,' he replied, still fiddling with the controls. 'But "indestructible" is such a relative term.'

'No it isn't!' she yelled, unable to stop herself now. 'It means we can't be hurt!'

'Usually, yes but with so many systems off-line...' He stared at her. 'If we're sucked into the jet itself, that's going to be a very intense field.' The noise seemed to vibrate out of the very heart of the gutted ship. 'Atoms being ripped to shreds, that kind of thing. It's possible that it might be enough to scatter the TARDIS across half the galaxy. Not very likely, of course. But possible.'

'Marvellous,' Sam sighed. 'So glad I checked!'

The TARDIS shuddered again, and she could tell that they were now being sucked directly into the intake for the stellar drive. In seconds if she'd done her homework correctly they would be hurled into the mix chamber, where the forces of a miniature sun would converge upon the TARDIS.

Would they get through it?

Sam stared at the Doctor, torn between wanting to kick seven shades of Sh.o.r.editch out of him for messing with the TARDIS systems and giving him a last, desperate kiss before utter annihilation. She was still trying to decide which she favoured when the whole ceiling suddenly went black, and the TARDIS tumbled end over end into the maw of the vessel.

CHAPTER 2.

A PILE OF JUNK.

Sam clung on for dear life as the ship tossed and crashed about her. The Doctor managed to look a shade more dignified, though hardly less panic-stricken. He was holding on to the console with one hand and frantically manipulating the controls with the other. The TARDIS was caught inside the collectors, she a.s.sumed, probably being sucked into the furnace that powered this starship. Sam's nerves were frayed almost clean through, but she managed to clamp her mouth shut. She was not going to die screaming.

Abruptly, the TARDIS was shaken again, and twisted, this time whirling about like a top. Sam was getting rather giddy when abruptly the TARDIS slammed into something very solid, and came to a sudden halt.

There was a long, heavy silence.

'We're alive,' Sam breathed, astonished. She glanced around the console room, shaking with relief. 'You did something brilliant at the last second!'

The Doctor's mouth twitched. 'Perceptive, but wrong.'

'You mean we're not alive?'

'I mean I didn't do anything brilliant at the last second.' He looked puzzled. 'The drive still isn't back on line yet. Whatever happened wasn't my doing.'

Sam scowled at him. 'So we were just lucky, then?'

'It would appear so.' As they were no longer in s.p.a.ce, the holographic ceiling was of no use to them. He switched on the smaller scanner instead, and used it to survey their surroundings.

They were in some kind of a cavernous room, one that seemed to be filled with broken items. Parts of walls, small machines, pipes, girders and other mess littered the room beside them.

'Wherever we are, the owners aren't too tidy,' the Doctor eventually decided. 'Let's just pop out for a quick look, shall we?'

'Right,' Sam said enthusiastically, then, 'Er, Doctor... d'you think it might be a good idea if you got the TARDIS operational again? Just in case. We've almost been killed once already this morning.'

'Hmm. You may just have a point, Sam. I'll just fix the drive, and then we'll take a look around.' He looked hopeful, like a child bargaining to play with a favourite toy. 'Agreed?'

'Agreed,' she smiled.

Humming to himself, the Doctor worked on the controls for another few minutes, adjusting, fine-tuning, and correcting. Finally, he brushed his hands together and gave a satisfied smile. 'Right, there we are. Fully flight-capable again. If there's any trouble, we hare it back here and leave immediately.'

'Good.' Sam felt a lot better now, knowing that they had an escape route. She'd been surveying the room they were in using the monitor, but had seen no signs of life as yet. The Doctor collected his long dark-green frock coat from the hatstand as they pa.s.sed it, and scooped up his sonic screwdriver from the small table beside the outer door. Sam eyed the pieces of the disa.s.sembled door. 'Will the TARDIS be safe like this?'

'Oh, I'm sure it will be,' the Doctor replied. 'We're only off for a quick look around, and maybe a cup of tea. Then I'll come back and fix that.' He opened the outer doors, and led the way into the room beyond.

Sam closed the door behind her, and stared around. The place was just as it had seemed on the screen large, mostly empty, but with a pile of absolute junk in the centre of the room. The Doctor, naturally, found all of this terribly fascinating. He had wandered off to examine one of the shattered wall fragments close by. Wiring, tubes, and electronic parts showed at the shattered edges, and he peered at these with interest. And then with alarm.

'I recognise the workmanship,' he said softly. 'Daleks!'

Sam felt a thrill go through her at the word. The Doctor had talked about the Daleks so often Sam felt she'd actually met them herself. 'I'm old enough to dodge Daleks' was one of her favourite retorts to the Doctor's occasionally overbearing paternal streak.

'Something tore their ship apart rather severely,' he said. 'And, judging from the micrometeor punctures, I'd say several months ago at least. I think we're perfectly safe here for the time being.' He glanced upward. Sam followed his gaze and saw there was a huge funnel suspended from the ceiling on what looked like a shaky support system. Small machines were s.p.a.ced evenly about the mouth.

The Doctor smiled. 'Now I know what saved us, Sam,' he announced. He gestured upward. 'This ship is a salvage vessel, flitting the s.p.a.ce lanes, sweeping up anything of interest in its path. The intake devices scan the debris, and anything over, say, an inch or so is diverted to a storage hold to be examined. Only the really small stuff ends up as fuel.'

'Then I'm glad I never went on a diet,' Sam decided.

'You don't need to,' said the Doctor, smiling.

Sam almost gaped. Rare were the occasions when the Doctor gave any indication he actually noticed what she looked like.

'So instead of being fuel, we're now officially junk?' she asked.

'Something like that.' The Doctor wandered off absent-mindedly, examining another piece of broken bulkhead. 'Another bit of Dalek debris. And I don't think it's from the same ship, either.' He looked puzzled. 'There must have been a major battle here several months ago. Odd.'

'What's so odd about it?' Sam asked. She was just glad it was long over. Seeing a war from the inside had little appeal to her, and bits of wrecked s.p.a.ceships weren't her idea of fun, either even if the Doctor was fascinated.

'It's just that I ' He broke off as they rounded the bulkhead fragment and came face to face with a Dalek.

Sam didn't need to be told that this was what it was. She'd seen pictures, and there was absolutely no mistaking what they were faced with. The Doctor jumped in front of her, instinctively protecting her. Then he relaxed.

'It's all right, it's dead,' he announced.

'How can you be sure?'

'Because we aren't.' The Doctor gave her one of his chilling, penetrating stares. 'If it were alive, we'd be smoking corpses by now.'

Sam nodded, getting the point. He had been willing to die to buy her time to escape. She realised she was almost taking his self-sacrificial streak for granted. This isn't a game, she told herself. She would make it up to him.

They moved closer to the Dalek, and Sam could see that part of the back of its dome was missing. There were stains of something green at the edges of the gash.

It didn't seem to be quite so threatening close up. It was only about five feet tall, shorter than she was. It was a uniform grey all over except the green stains and didn't seem to be too formidable, considering the respect the Doctor seemed to have for them. It had three protuberances; the one at the top was clearly an eye of some kind, since she could see the lens. One of the lower sticks looked like some sort of gun, and the other looked not unlike a sink plunger.

'This is it?' she asked him. 'The most evil creature in the universe? It doesn't look like much.'

'Appearances can be deceptive,' the Doctor replied. 'The Daleks are the most single-minded and efficient killing creatures ever to exist.'

Sam snorted. 'Look at that silly plunger!' she mocked. 'How can they rule the universe if they can't even open a door?'

The Doctor glowered at her. 'They use their guns. Frequently.'

Sam sobered up slightly. 'I bet I can guess the punchline to all Dalek knock-knock jokes, then.'

'Yes.' The Doctor tapped the dome, studying the sound in some way. 'And they climb stairs through telekinetic force. They can withstand total vacuum, shots from most artillery weapons, and many other things that would reduce you or me to our molecules in seconds. They can fire their guns about a thousand times without recharging. They have solar collectors to repower their units automatically, and inbuilt computers to provide tactical and sensory data.' He gave her a very bleak smile. 'They never sleep, and they never deviate from their orders. They have no mercy, and no interests in anything other than domination through total destruction if necessary. And it usually is.'

Sam sighed. 'Talk about needing to get a life.'

'To take take life,' he snapped back. 'The need is inbred. They're cloned and grown in vats. They are then implanted into the travel machines like this one, and form an instant bond. Daleks come out of the nursery armed and ready to fight. Their nutritional needs are met by a biological solution inside the casing, and the only desire that they have is to kill. They have no culture, no arts.' The Doctor thought back. 'Not any more...' life,' he snapped back. 'The need is inbred. They're cloned and grown in vats. They are then implanted into the travel machines like this one, and form an instant bond. Daleks come out of the nursery armed and ready to fight. Their nutritional needs are met by a biological solution inside the casing, and the only desire that they have is to kill. They have no culture, no arts.' The Doctor thought back. 'Not any more...'

'No cordon bleu cookery, obviously,' Sam joked weakly.

'No.' The Doctor smiled abruptly. 'And they began as humanoids. They lost everything: love, fear, their consciences. They might know deep inside that they're lacking something. But instead of trying to improve themselves, they've elected to annihilate anything and anyone different to themselves. They want to remake the universe in their twisted image, so that the only living creatures within it are Daleks.'

Sam shuddered. The Doctor was really getting himself worked up. 'There's no appealing to their better nature, then?'

'I tried that, once,' he admitted. 'I don't think it worked.'

There was the sound of a door opening, and the Doctor shook himself out of his introspective mood. He flashed her a smile. 'Company!'

Sam followed him automatically, still deep in her own reverie. She might have a curious nature, but she'd gladly give the Daleks a pa.s.s after that little speech! It was quite obvious that they scared the Doctor. And anything that scared the Doctor terrified her. She just hoped that whoever owned this ship was friendly.

Rounding the pieces of bulkhead, the Doctor waved cheerfully. 'Halloo!' he called.

Two men were climbing down a ladder set near the door, and both looked around as they were greeted. One was older than the other, but both wore the same expression of surprise on their faces. They also both wore slightly ratty suits. They might have been trim and white once, but the colour had faded in patches to a brownish cream. The younger man's elbows were patched, and there was a small tear in the legs of his trousers. The older man looked even worse, since he'd not bothered to even try to repair his clothing.

'Where did you come from?' the older man asked.

The Doctor gestured back towards the TARDIS. 'My ship,' he replied. He and Sam met them halfway across the deck. 'I'm the Doctor, and I'm very pleased to meet you. This is my good friend, Sam.'

'Captain Balatan,' the older man said. 'My son and first officer, Loran.' He stared at the TARDIS. 'That's your ship?'

'Yes.' The Doctor bent forward and said quietly, 'Your capture field just sort of swept us in by accident.'

'It looks a bit small for a starship,' Loran said. Then he looked at Sam. His eyes gleamed, and he straightened up. 'Oh, sorry. Pleasure to meet you.' He held out a hand.

Sam didn't know whether she was expected to shake it or kiss it, so she settled for the former. 'Hi.' She could see his eyes looking her over and sighed mentally. When he spoke again it confirmed her worst fears.

'It's not very often that we have such charming company aboard the Quetzel Quetzel,' he informed her. 'Actually, it isn't very often that we see anyone else at all. Months, in fact.'

'Stop trying to chat her up,' Captain Balatan snapped. 'We're here to work, not fool around.' Loran flushed, but didn't say anything. Balatan walked over to the TARDIS then turned to face the Doctor. 'This is your starship, then?'