Hangrid Doctor Who

Chapter Seven: The Girl in the Spaceship

"Day 362. The terror continues." Nickie said into her tape recorder. "Also, made another soufflé. Very nearly." She glanced at the waste bin beside the hammock, the smoldered pastry still inside. "Check defenses..." She looked over at the door, which was boarded up, thanks to Nickie's handiwork. "They came again last night. Still, always at night. Maybe they're vampires. Oh! And it's mum's birthday! Happy birthday, mum. I did make you a soufflé, but it was too beautiful to live."

A loud banging on the door jolted Nickie from her work, and she switched the recorder off. "You will let us enter!" Came an unmistakable robotic voice from just outside the door. "We will enter! We will enter!" Nickie sighed and rolled over to turn up her music, Carmen Suite No. 1.

"What's she doing?" Chester whispered to Grace, nodding toward Hannah, who was pacing the room and looking around frantically.

"She's chosen the most defendable area, in the room, counted all the Daleks, counted all the exits, and now she's calculating the exact distance we're standing apart and she's starting to worry." As if on cue, Hannah's face fell. "Oh! And look at her frowning now. 'Something's wrong with Grace and Chester and who's going to fix that?'. And she straightens her bow tie." She said as Hannah did just that.

"We have arrived." The Dalek emperor said, and Hannah raised a brow, her back to him.

"Arrived where?" She asked, not quite sure if she'd get an answer.

"Doctor." Came the robotic voice.

"The prime minister will speak with you now." A woman said, the same Dalek pulsar on her forehead as the others had before. Hannah turned to look at the prime minister before moving back to the woman. "Do you remember who were, before they emptied you out and turned you into their puppet?"

"My memories are only reactivated if they are required to facilitate deep cover or disguise."

"You had a daughter." Hannah said, voice quivering a bit. How could this woman not even care?

"I know..." she said before her lips turned into a gentle smirk and she leaned forward. "I've read my file." She said, pulling back and gesturing to the prime minister. Hannah took a step forward.

"What do you know of the Dalek asylum?"

"I know it's a dumping ground, according to legend. A planet where you lock up the Daleks who go wrong. A dumping ground for the battle-scarred, the insane...the ones even you can't control. Which never made any sense to me."

"Why not?"

"Because you'd just kill them."

"It is offensive to us to distinguish such divine hatred."

Hannah looked down at the Dalek prime minister as if it had told her it knew who she really was. "Offensive?"

"Does it surprise you to know that the Daleks have a concept of beauty?"

"And I thought you'd run out of ways to make me sick, but hello again. You think hatred is beautiful?"

"Perhaps that is why we have never been able to kill you." Point taken. Before Hannah could object, however, the floor beside Grace and Chester opened to reveal a planet beneath the ship. Hannah moved to peer at it.

"The asylum," the Dalek-woman started. "It occupies the whole planet, right to the very core."

"How many Daleks are down there?" Hannah asked.

"A count has not been made. Millions, certainly."

"All still alive?"

"It has to be assumed. The asylum is fully automated. Supervision is not required."