Prisoner of the Daleks

by Trevor Baxendale

The Doctor tossed the holopicture across the desk and Bowman caught it with a snap of his hand. 'Now – what did you want to see me about? And who's that charming creature who fetched me here – your bodyguard? Hired muscle? Ship's cat? You don't look like you need any of them, to be honest.'

  'I don't. But Koral is unique. She is fast, strong and very loyal. She also has claws that can rip through sheet metal.'

  'Really? I don't think I've seen her kind before.'

  'Her planet was destroyed by the Daleks – she's the last of her kind.'

  'I know the feeling.'

  'I saved her life,' Bowman said simply. 'She was dying, suffocating in the smoking ruins of her own world. I took her onboard the Wayfarer and nursed her back to life. Now she believes she owes me that life, quite literally. She has sworn to protect me.'

  'It's an old story,' the Doctor remarked, 'but I still don't think you need it.' He nodded at the heavy blaster pistol resting on the desk.

  'True, but what else is there for her to do? Life with me gives her the one thing she craves – the chance to destroy Daleks. Something I have seen her do with her bare hands, incidentally. In a recent encounter with some space pirates, one of my crew was slightly injured in the altercation. Koral leapt on the bandit who fired the shot and ripped his head clean off with one stroke of her claws. Her loyalty extends through me to the rest of the crew.'

  The Doctor whistled. 'And the rest of your crew... what kind of tricks can they do?'

  'Scrum is a brilliant computer technician and theoretical scientist – or so he tells me. He's also a wanted criminal throughout Earth space, so it's difficult to substantiate his claims. But as he invented most of our anti-Dalek weaponry and defence systems, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.'

  'And what about Cuttin' Edge?'

  'Used to be a Space Marine, one of the best – except that he couldn't handle military discipline and ended up on the wrong end of a dishonourable discharge. Something to do with murdering his commanding officer, I believe.'

  'And what about Stella?' The Doctor spoke softly, cautiously, but he had to ask. 'She didn't exactly fit in with you lot – criminals, killers, people who can tear through sheet metal.'

  Bowman stared at the Doctor. 'Stella was a good kid. That's all you need to know.'

  The Doctor nodded. 'I liked her.'

  'You hardly knew her.'

  'I'm a good judge of character.'

  'Is that so?'

  'Yeah, so look: I really don't want to hang around here any longer than I have to, and I know you certainly don't want me here, so how about we forget all this chit-chat and go our separate ways? You needn't bother throwing me overboard, either. Just drop me off when we get to Auros and we'll call it quits.'

  Bowman didn't reply straight away. He simply continued to work on the blaster pistol, clicking each component into place without even looking.

  Eventually, he said, 'Not so fast, Doctor.'

  The Doctor watched as Bowman finished reassembling the gun.

  'You see,' Bowman said, 'I've been thinking about you, Doctor. It's been preying on my mind ever since we left Hurala. That planet's nothing but a forgotten piece of grit on the edge of space. So what were you really doing there? And, more importantly, what were the Daleks doing there? They don't do anything – or go anywhere – without a reason.'

  'I've no idea,' replied the Doctor. 'I shouldn't really have been there myself. I can hardly speak for the Daleks.'

  'Is that so?' Bowman made no attempt to hide his scepticism. 'Come on, Doctor. I know you're a spook.'

  'Spook?'

  'Earth agent. Military intelligence. Why else would you be stuck on Hurala just when the Daleks turn up? You couldn't even provide any proper ID. You've got "secrets" written all over you. There wasn't any other spacecraft there when the Wayfarer touched down. I bet if I asked you straight how you got to Hurala you wouldn't be able to answer.'

  'It's difficult to explain, it really is.'

  Bowman curled his lip. 'Let me guess – if you told me, you'd have to kill me?'

  'I'd probably have to stop you laughing first.'

  'Want to bet?' Bowman aimed the blaster casually at the Doctor's head. 'Let's get one thing straight. I don't like spooks and I don't like you. But one way or another I'm going to find out what you were doing on Hurala, and why the Daleks were there.'

  The intercom on Bowman's desk bleeped again and Scrum's voice crackled through: 'Skipper! We're just coming into orbit around Auros...'

  Both Bowman and the Doctor heard the strange, anxious tone. 'What's up?' asked Bowman.

  'Something's wrong,' Scrum replied, his voice trembling. 'Badly wrong. You'd better come and take a look, skip. Auros is burning.'

  SEVEN

  The planet was on fire. From the large portside viewing window, the crew of the Wayfarer looked down in disbelieving horror as the surface of the planet churned and broke apart, molten lava erupting from beneath the shattered crust, incinerating everything in its path and filling the atmosphere with toxic gas.

  Auros had been a typical human colony world – naturally located in a temperate biosphere around its parent sun, with one small moon. It was a beautiful planet, with equatorial rainforests, mountains, deserts, grassland and oceans, and men had come here in their droves, keen to escape the overcrowded Earth.

  The Doctor looked up from the unfolding devastation. Scrum was white-faced, and there were tears running down his cheeks. 'Any communications?'

  Scrum shook his head. 'We didn't establish contact beforehand. We're not always welcome.'

  'There were some ships flying away when we got here,' said Cuttin' Edge slowly. 'Looks like they were evacuatin'. A couple of them said we should clear out too. Auros is goin' down.'

  'The last ship to leave told us to cut and run,' Scrum added quietly. 'They said the Daleks were coming.'

  A chill spread through the Wayfarer, and even Koral – watching from the shadows through narrowed, smouldering eyes – moved closer to the others.

  Jon Bowman stood behind all of them, like the statue of an ancient god overlooking Hell. His hard, rock-like face reflected the orange and red glow of the dying planet. 'I've seen this before,' he growled. 'It's the Osterhagen Principle.'

  'They've scuttled the planet,' explained the Doctor in response to Scrum's questioning look. 'There's a network of nuclear devices across the planet, buried deep below ground. It's a self-destruct mechanism.'

  'It's designed to prevent the enemy getting hold of the planet,' said Bowman. 'When all else fails.'

  'I know what it's for,' said the Doctor bleakly. 'It was invented on Earth over five hundred years ago. It was a bad idea then and it's a bad idea now.'

  Cuttin' Edge stepped back from the window, rubbing a hand over his shaven head in confusion. At first he seemed almost lost for words, but then he said, 'Hey, they must have done it for a reason, man.'

  'You heard what they said,' Scrum argued. 'The Daleks are coming. Maybe this way the population will have time to escape.'

  'Yeah,' Cuttin' Edge nodded. 'Yeah. At least this way the Daleks don't get the planet.'

  Cuttin' Edge was desperate to make sense of what he was seeing, to find a way to come to terms with the terrible destruction consuming the charred surface of the world below. But all the Doctor could feel was the bile rising in his throat, a stark revulsion that he couldn't contain. 'It's a stupid, stupid waste,' he said. 'All they've done is save the Daleks a job. They'd have destroyed a planet like that anyway. Now they don't even have to bother.'

  Scrum glared at the Doctor, and there was hate in his tearful eyes now. 'Don't say that,' he moaned.

  'I'm sorry,' said the Doctor quietly. 'But it's what the Daleks do.'

  'I can't watch it any more,' said Scrum. He turned away from the window and leant his head against the wall. His whole body was shaking.

  'Take it easy, bro,' said Cuttin' Edge. He rested a hand on his friend's shoulder and shot the Doctor a venomous l
ook.

  'Satisfied?' Bowman growled at the Doctor. 'First Stella, now her homeworld. What's going on?'

  'I don't know,' the Doctor said. He looked out of the window again, keen to avoid their accusing stares. On the surface of the planet below, vast chunks of charred land broke away into seas of boiling lava. 'But it wasn't the Daleks who did that.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'Human beings did that,' the Doctor said in a funereal tone. His big, dark eyes never left the planet. 'All those cities and homes and farms and fields... the sum of human endeavour on a beautiful new world. All gone – deliberately wrecked. A self-inflicted wound.'

  Bowman's temper flared. 'What choice did they have? Auros is too far from Earth Command for them to protect it against a fleet of Dalek destructor ships. This was the only way to protect them. The only way. Don't you see that?'

  'All I see is a planet in flames and not a Dalek in sight.'

  'Then the survivors should count themselves lucky.'

  The Doctor tore his gaze from the planet's death throes. He stared at nothing, thinking furiously. Then he clapped a hand against his head and yelled, 'Of course!'

  The others stared at him.

  He looked up, his eyes wide with a sudden, horrific realisation. 'Oh no. Oh no, no, no...!'

  And then he pushed straight past Bowman and ran towards the flight cabin. 'We need to contact them – warn them! Hurry!'

  Bowman jerked his head, and Cuttin' Edge and Scrum obediently set off after the Doctor.

  'What's up?' Cuttin' Edge demanded as they reached the flight cabin. The Doctor was all over the controls, leaping from one panel to the next, flicking switches and jabbing buttons with frenetic speed. 'Hey – what you doin', man?'

  The Doctor was practically tearing his hair out. 'I'm trying to make contact with the refugees,' he gabbled. 'There must be a long-range transceiver system onboard a ship like this – but where? This thing's been repaired, replaced and reconditioned more times than my TARDIS!'

  'Here,' said Scrum, sliding into one of the cockpit seats and activating a control unit. 'It's a hyperlink data-stream salvaged from an old Draconian battleship. It can tap into almost any major communications signal.'

  'Brilliant!' The Doctor slipped on his glasses and studied the console over Scrum's shoulder. 'Send out a broad-contact beam. But scramble the signal. We don't want to be any more visible than we have to be, do we?'

  'What's going on?' asked Bowman as he entered the flight deck. Koral was at his shoulder, a shadow among shadows.

  'We've got to warn the people who left Auros,' said the Doctor without looking up. 'Tell them to turn around and head back home.'

  'What?' Cuttin' Edge frowned. 'You gotta be kiddin', man...'

  'Their home is burning,' Bowman said. 'They're running away, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the Daleks.'

  'Are they?' The Doctor whipped off his glasses and looked straight at Bowman. 'This is the Daleks we're talking about, remember. They don't let people go. It's not in their nature.'

  And in that instant Bowman understood. 'The Daleks will ambush the fleet. It's a trap.' He turned to Scrum and barked, 'For God's sake, man, get them on the hyperlink now.'

  'I'm working on it,' Scrum assured him. His fingers flew over the communications controls, his tears forgotten as he concentrated on the task. 'Here we are. Looks like they left Auros in commercial passenger ships and cargo freighters, plus some private vessels. A convoy, packed with the entire population.'

  'How could they have organised all that so quickly?' wondered Cuttin' Edge.

  'There's probably not all that many of them in planetary terms,' said the Doctor. 'No more than a few thousand. They will all have been located near to the major spaceport, or owned spacecraft of their own. And fear is a great motivator. Once the countdown for the Osterhagen nukes started, I bet they all moved pretty fast.'

  Bowman's face was a grim mask in the light of the control board. 'Too fast,' he growled.

  'I still don't understand—' Cuttin' Edge began.

  'Shh,' said Scrum. There was a rush of static from the panel. 'I've done it – I've hacked into the Auros convoy's communications network.'

  The Doctor leant in and grabbed the microphone by its flexible neck. 'Auros convoy! Do you copy? This is the Wayfarer calling the Auros convoy – can you hear us?'

  A burst of static, then: 'This is the Auros convoy.' The screen fizzled into life and the grainy image of a tired, anxious-looking woman came into view. 'I'm Vanessa Lakestaad—'

  'Listen to me—' began the Doctor.

  'Do you wish to join the fleet?'

  'No, listen—'

  'You can't miss us,' Vanessa Lakestaad said. 'There are nearly four hundred vessels in this convoy alone...'

  'Stop!' yelled the Doctor. 'Turn back!'

  'I'm sorry, you're breaking up,' said the woman, frowning. The image crackled. 'There's another signal interfering with yours. It's very powerful...'

  The Doctor's grip tightened on the microphone and his knuckles turned white. 'Turn around!' he yelled. 'Tell the fleet to split up! Scatter! Run for your lives!'

  'What? I can't hear you. Wait – here's that signal again. It's drowning you out.'

  There was a loud crackle from the speakers and Scrum winced as the picture suddenly zigzagged and disappeared. 'We've lost contact...' He adjusted some controls. 'We can still hear them but they can't hear us. Someone's blocking our signal.'

  The woman's voice came again, loud and clear, almost as if she was standing next to them on the flight deck of the Wayfarer. 'Unidentified vessel, this is Vanessa Lakestaad, Leader of the Auros refugee fleet. Our homeworld is destroyed. We are fleeing for our lives. Please identify yourself.'

  There was a long pause. And then a harsh, grating voice filled the cabin: 'SURVIVORS OF AUROS! PAY CLOSE ATTENTION!'

  'Oh my God,' whispered Scrum.

  The Doctor put his hand over his mouth in mute horror as the image on the screen slowly resolved into the familiar dome of a Dalek head. The eye glowed a bright blue, almost filling the screen.

  'WE ARE THE DALEKS! YOUR EFFORTS TO ESCAPE ARE USELESS! PREPARE TO SURRENDER.'

  'Please,' said Vanessa Lakestaad. Her voice now sounded small and frightened, suddenly almost childlike. 'You... you must let us pass. We are a refugee fleet, heading for the Inner Worlds. We can't—'

  The metallic voice interrupted her. 'SILENCE! YOU WILL TRAVEL NO FURTHER. YOUR CONVOY IS SURROUNDED.'

  'No, please, you can't mean that! You mustn't! We don't want to fight!' A sob broke through Lakestaad's words. 'We can't fight. We can't...! We're private vessels, merchant ships only. This is the entire population of Auros. We claim refugee status...'

  'SILENCE! YOU HAVE DESTROYED YOUR OWN PLANET AND FLED INTO SPACE.' The Dalek voice rose in pitch as it grew more excited. 'YOU ARE NOW PRISONERS OF THE DALEKS!'

  'I don't understand...' began Vanessa.

  'YOUR SPACECRAFT WILL BE BOARDED AND YOUR PASSENGERS TAKEN AS PRISONERS. ANY ATTEMPT AT RESISTANCE WILL BE MET BY EXTERMINATION.'

  'No! You can't!'

  The Dalek's voice grated on: 'AS AN EXAMPLE TO THE REMAINDER OF THE REFUGEE FLEET, YOUR VESSEL WILL NOW BE DESTROYED.'

  'Please, no...' whispered Vanessa.

  Scrum turned in his seat and looked up at Bowman. 'We've got to do something!'

  But Bowman stared impassively at the communications console, utterly powerless.

  The Doctor closed his eyes.

  'Please... Have mercy on us,' wept Vanessa. 'I beg you...'

  'EXTERMINATE!' shrieked the Dalek.

  There was a howl of feedback, echoing around the flight cabin like a blood-curdling scream. And then, abruptly, the signal died and the air was filled with white noise. The image of the Dalek faded slowly from the screen.

  Scrum buried his head in his hands. Cuttin' Edge swore and looked down at his boots. Koral stepped closer to Bowman, who simply stood, rock-like, his eyes narrowed into grey
slits as if his gaze could pierce the walls of the ship and see across space, to where the Auros fleet had once been.

  There was complete silence on board the Wayfarer now. The Doctor gently switched off the radio.

  'Gone...' Scrum was saying softly. 'That woman... All those people – just... gone. Slaughtered.'

  Bowman turned his cold, steely eyes on the Doctor. 'You knew that was going to happen.'

  'I guessed,' said the Doctor quietly. 'The Daleks knew the survivors would run for their lives. It was a simple matter to position the Dalek ships ready to intercept the convoy. A lot quicker and easier than attacking the planet itself. They kill the leaders and take the rest prisoner.'

  'They never stood a chance.'

  'No,' agreed the Doctor. 'They didn't.'

  Bowman's lips compressed into a thin, bleak line and his face was white with anger. 'There's something going on here which I don't understand. First the Daleks turn up on Hurala, right out on the very edge of nowhere. And now this. Taking thousands of prisoners in one go. Why? What's going on?'

  'I don't know.'

  Bowman had grabbed the Doctor by the lapels of his suit and slammed him up against the bulkhead wall. 'The hell you don't!' he roared. 'You never saw Auros before! Fields and oceans and blue skies! Men and women and kids! They had everything!'

  'I'm sorry...'

  'Sorry isn't enough!' Bowman swung the Doctor around, hurling him across the cabin. He crashed against the door and then slid to the ground in a crumpled heap. 'Sorry isn't nearly enough.'

  The Doctor got to his knees slowly and painfully. He felt as if every bone in his body was still vibrating from the impact with the wall, and his mouth hurt. The front of his suit was creased where Bowman's giant fists had held him.

  'Don't bother standing up,' Bowman growled menacingly, 'unless you want me to knock you down again.'

  The Doctor touched a finger to his lip. There was blood where it had split.

  'You know more than you're telling,' Bowman insisted. 'You know what all this is about. Don't you?'

  Scrum and Cuttin' Edge were watching the altercation. Scrum looked nervous but Cuttin' Edge was sneering. 'You best tell us what you know, man. Otherwise we may have to make you.'