Prologue - Sleeper

The lifepod drifted through the airless vacuum of space, the faint light of distant stars causing the metal to glint as it slowly tumbled end over end. Inside, the single occupant was held in stasis, awaiting rescue from those he considered his own kind.

Despite being in stasis, the mind of the pod’s occupant was still active. As his metal cocoon made its lonely way between the stars, he was able to reflect on the events that had led him here and plan for the future.

Such a glorious future! All past defeats and inconveniences would be forgotten, swept away in a new, perfect dawn! And those who had wronged him, crossed him and sought to defeat him would be found and punished. He would watch their suffering and enjoy it, draw strength from their screams of agony and their pleas for mercy. His mercy. And if he was feeling benevolent, he would allow them a quick death.

But there was one individual who loomed large in his thoughts. One who had meddled far too often in the great and glorious destiny he had planned. One who he would enjoy draining the last drop of knowledge from before extermination!

All these thoughts kept the sleeper occupied as the lifepod continued on its journey. It tumbled into an inhabited solar system and got caught in the gravity well of a planet. Soon, very soon, the sleeper would awake. But would he wake to the bright new dawn he was planning in his own mind, or to something that might prove even better?

***

The Hand of Davros

“Father! Come and look at this!”

Rentu sighed to himself as he opened the tent flap to see what had caused his daughter’s excited shout. The young were so full of energy these days, so keen and eager to do things now. Could they not wait a little, to let the older members of the tribe catch up? Had he really been that young himself once?

When he stepped outside and saw what Shrela was pointing at though he realised it wouldn’t have waited much longer. The fireball was streaking across the sky, heading for a heavy landing somewhere close to the village.

“Is it a traveller from the stars?” Shrela asked, full of enthusiasm at the prospect.

Rentu nodded. “I think it very well could be,” he told his daughter. They watched together as the flaming ball dropped lower in the sky, dropping from their sight behind the forest near the foot of the mountains.

Moments later the ground shook slightly with the impact. Then all was still and dark once again.

Many of the villagers had come to see the spectacle when they heard Shrela’s original shout. Now they were wondering what to do next.

“Should we go to the mountains, to see if there is anyone alive?” asked Mensh, a young, strong warrior who could one day lead the tribe.

“Surely not even a traveller from the stars could have survived such a fall,” replied Senta, one of the female elders.

“We should go,” Shrela announced. “Someone may be hurt and need our help.”

“We should wait,” Senta said. “The fire will burn for some time to come.”

“All the more reason to go now,” argued Shrela. “If we wait, it may be too late.” She turned to her father, her bright blue eyes flashing in the starlight. “I shall go alone if I have to.”

He knew she would too. But he wasn’t about to let her risk her life alone when they didn’t know what might be waiting beyond forest.

“I shall lead a party to investigate,” Rentu announced. “Mensh, find the three best and fittest warriors in the village. You will accompany me. We shall leave when you return.”

Mensh nodded and left to his task. Shrela looked at her father.

“I am coming too,” she told him forcefully. “There could be injured.”

He placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “Did I say you could not? You have until Mensh returns to find what herbs and potions you might need.”

She grinned, kissing him lightly on the cheek before ducking into her tent to find what she required.

***

Consciousness returned slowly. In fact, it wasn’t until he felt it’s stirrings that he realised he had been unconscious. Stasis usually kept the mind active while the body shut down. Maybe something had gone wrong.

He tried feebly to access the databanks, but found nothing. Maybe the pod had shut down for some reason. Or maybe it had been discovered floating in space. He could have been rescued. Or worse.

Time to try something else. His ocular implant. He should be able to get an image of his surroundings without whoever was around knowing he was awake. He sent the access codes that had become so familiar over the centuries and awaited the results.

Again nothing. That was strange. Even if he had been in total darkness, he should have been able to access ultraviolet or infrared spectra.

He sent a diagnostic pulse to the ocular control centre. But again there was nothing. Starting to worry now, he sent out commands to all the areas that controlled the function of his body. But he got absolutely no response from any of them.

Maybe his life support system had been damaged. He could be on the point of death and not know it. That would be the final indignity, being unaware of his own demise.

“Open your eyes.”

Who had said that? And how had he heard it if his audio receptors were offline?

Maybe it hadn’t been a vocal communication. Maybe it had come from inside his head. Could it be an external force or was it his own mind trying to tell him something?

“Stop over thinking the situation and open your eyes.”

There it was again, definitely inside his head. How could he comply? His eyes had been sealed shut for centuries, hence the ocular implant. And even if he could open them, he wouldn’t be able to see anything. That’s why his eyes had been fused shut in the first place. He was quite blind.

But the inner voice had been insistent and it couldn’t do any harm to demonstrate the futility of the exercise. So, for the first time in almost as long as he could remember, he tried to open his eyes.

Despite the length of time since he had last tried to perform this operation, it went remarkably smoothly. After a couple of false starts, his eyes did indeed flicker open. The only problem was he was forced to close them almost immediately, due to the harshness of the light outside.

Light? But he was blind, he shouldn’t be able to see anything. Then again, he shouldn’t have been able to open his eyes at all, so maybe this was a day for miracles.

Slowly, carefully, he tried again. This time, as he opened his eyes more slowly, the light was more filtered and he was able to make out blurred shapes. The light wasn’t as harsh as he had first thought, it must have been the initial shock that made it seem that way.

He needed something to focus on. His hand, that should do. It had been rebuilt after that incident in the catacombs of Necros, a new hand grown in a tank and grafted onto the stump. The skin was still knurled and leathery, but then it matched the rest of his remaining skin.

He sent an order to the servomechanisms in his arm to raise the hand. But, like with the ocular implant before them, they refused to obey. Had his body degraded to the extent where there was only his head left active?

“Just lift it you fool!”

The inner voice again, harsher this time. He was sure he recognised the voice, but it was one he hadn’t heard in a long time, he was sure of that. If only he could place it.

Relaxing as much as he could, he tried to do as the voice had instructed and raise his arm. To his surprise, it seemed to work. A shape began to rise into his field of vision.

Focus, he told himself. Focus. Slowly, the shape began to resolve itself into an arm and hand.

But it wasn’t his. It couldn’t be. This arm and hand was pink and relatively smooth, not brown and leathery like it was supposed to be. Yet it seemed to be obeying his commands. The fingers clenched and unclenched in time to his instructions, the arm rose and fell when he wanted it to.

What was going on here? What was happening to him?

Beyond the hand, a face swam into his view. A female face.

“Do not try to move,” the woman said.

He attempted to speak, to ask questions about how he had arrived here, where he was and who she was. But he could barely open his mouth.

“And do not try and speak. You are not well enough yet. You need to rest.” She placed a calming hand on his brow. “Sleep now.”

Against his will his eyelids closed and he slept.

***

While he slept, he dreamt. Dreams of war and conquest and machines, as tall as a man with deadly firepower. Machines that he had created and that obeyed him without question.

Usually this kind of dream caused him a great deal of satisfaction. But this time, as he drifted towards wakefulness, he felt there was something missing.

***

This time it took him almost a minute to remember to use his eyes, rather than waiting in vain for the ocular implant to come online. It was all very confusing.

“You are awake. Good.”

The voice was nearby and a moment later a shape entered his field of vision. This time it resolved itself quicker than before. It was the young female he had seen earlier.

“You will need to take in nutrients,” she said. She reached past his head and helped him into a sitting position. Then she offered him a simple pottery bowl. “Drink this, it will help with the dryness in your throat.”

He reached out for the bowl and took it in both hands. It took a moment for his fuzzy mind to register what was wrong with this and when it did he dropped the bowl in shock. Only the quick reflexes of the young woman stopped it falling and smashing to bits.

“What is wrong?” she asked, concern etched onto her features.

He held up both hands to study. Like the single one he had seen last time he was awake, the other was pink and smooth. But the strangest thing was that it was there at all.

“My hand,” he croaked, his voice rough and dry even to his own ears.

The woman nodded her understanding. “It took some time for the bones and tissue to grow back completely, but it seems remarkably healthy now.”

He tried to speak again, to ask what had happened but no sound would come. He reached out, searching for the bowl again.

The woman smiled. “Yes, you will need this now. There is plenty more if you want it.”

Three bowls of the delicious crystal clear water later, he finally trusted himself to speak again.

“What happened to me?”

Now that his thirst was gone, so was the croak in his voice. But that surely wasn’t right. His voice should sound rough, shouldn’t it? Then he recognised the inner voice he had heard earlier. It was his new, smoother voice.

“We saved you,” the young woman was saying. “You fell from the sky near the village and when we reached the site we found you on the ground. The machine that brought you to us was in flames but you had been thrown clear.”

He digested her words carefully. There were so many things he wanted to ask, so many questions fighting in his mind to get out. But one forced its way to the surface.

“Do you have any form of reflective surface?”

Again she smiled as she handed over a polished piece of metal. Her smile was very attractive and gave her heart shaped face a glowing quality that was pleasing on the eye.

He pushed these thoughts away as he held the mirrored surface in both hands. He almost didn’t dare to look into it, fearing what he might see staring back at him. But he knew he had to do it, that he couldn’t put it off any longer.

The face was vaguely familiar. Vaguely because it was one he hadn’t seen for a long, long time. The brow was high, the hair (hair?) was short and stubbly and the eyes were clear and brown. Most striking of all was the skin, which was smooth except for a short growth of hair around the mouth. In short, it was a normal face.

But that wasn’t normal for him. Normal should have been brown and wrinkly, with an ocular implant in the centre of the forehead. Normal should have been a thin, black lipped mouth with no teeth and wires everywhere. But none of that was visible now, with the exception of a faint oval shaped scar in the centre of his forehead.

His fingers traced the outline of the scar, probing slightly. The flesh in the centre gave slightly under the pressure, causing a dull pain.

“We removed the seeing device,” the young woman informed him. “We knew you would not be needing it when the damage to your own eyes was repaired.”

He sat in dumb silence for a time, shaking his head occasionally and looking into the mirror to make sure it was true.

“How did this happen?” he eventually whispered.

“You were badly injured in the crash. Most of your internal organs were powered by the machine that you were wired into, as well as some of the external ones. We knew that if we were to save your life, we had to place your body in the waters of the Healing Spring. But we could not do that while you were attached to the machine, so we had to remove you.”

“The Healing Spring?”

“It is a natural spring that comes up from deep within the planet,” she told him, taking up the story again. “Once you were totally immersed in the waters, the properties of the Spring started the process of regeneration to your damaged bones and tissues. None of the tribe had ever seen anybody as badly injured as you before, so we did not know if you would survive. But I am pleased that you did.”

He thought for a long moment. “Let me get this straight. You removed me from the life support units wired into my chair and placed me in the waters of a natural spring. They reversed all the damage to my body, including growing new eyes, new bones and skin and nerves for my missing hand and repairing my vocal chords. Is there anything else this marvellous Spring of yours has done?”

This question was greeted with her widest smile yet. “Do not try yet, because you are still weak, but given a day or two you should be able to try walking again.”

“Walking?” How long had he been dependant on the chair to get around, to keep him alive? Longer than he cared to remember. And now he was days away from being able to walk again? It was breathtaking!

“There is one thing I should like to ask you,” said his raven-haired guardian angel.

It took a moment for him to register the question. He looked up. “What do you want to know?”

“What is your name?” she asked simply. “Mine is Shrela.”

“Shrela,” he repeated, rolling the name around his mouth like a fine wine. “It’s a very nice name. And mine?” He smiled, probably for the first time in centuries. “My name is Davros.”

***

Shortly after they had exchanged names, Shrela urged him to sleep again. He found he was very tired and took her advice.

Once again he dreamed, though this time not of war and conflict, at least not directly. This time he dreamt of the past, of hopes and ambitions from his younger days. And of the one person he had wanted to share in those hopes, those ambitions. Thula.

***

When Davros woke again he found a large man with greying hair looking down at him. The man had an air of authority about him, but also a pleasant manner, which took the stern edge off his demeanour. Beside the man was Shrela.

“Davros, this is Rentu, my father and leader of the village.”

Rentu held up his right hand at chest height, fingers spread wide. “You are welcome to our help and hospitality, Davros.”

Davros managed to push himself up on his elbows enough to return the gesture. “I appreciate all you have done for me,” he said with feeling.

“You were very badly injured when we found you. And not all of it from the crash I think.”

“You’re right there,” Davros replied with a grimace. “Shrela tells me I should be able to walk in a couple of days. I’ve not been able to walk for so long I almost can’t remember.”

“Were you in a war?” Rentu asked bluntly.

Davros paused before answering. “My people were at war for many years and yes, I was part of that war. But my people were, exterminated and my planet destroyed.”

Rentu frowned. “We are a simple people here. We know of things beyond the stars but we do not embrace technology. All we have, all we need is provided by nature and that is how we like to live. We have no disease, no war and no hunger. We do not want these things bringing down upon us from the planets beyond our world. I hope you will not bring that kind of trouble to our world.”

Davros shook his head. “You have already done so much for me, I could never repay you in that way. Maybe, one day, the scattered remains of my, people might find me, but I shall ensure that you and your world are safe from them.”

“Then you are indeed a welcome traveller. I shall now bid you goodbye. My daughter shall take care of any needs you might have.”

Rentu bowed solemnly and Davros did his best to mimic the gesture from his bed. Then Rentu left Davros and Shrela together.

“You have made an impression on him,” Shrela told him.

“How can you tell?” he inquired.

“I have never seen him welcome a traveller in such a way,” she replied earnestly.

“How many aliens have you met?” Davros wanted to know.

She barely paused to consider. “Four, including you. But you are the only one who looked like us that I have ever seen.”

He raised an inquiring eyebrow, silently urging her to continue.

“Three summers ago, a small ship made a forced landing just beyond the forest. The two travellers aboard reminded me of lizards, with scaly skin and claws. They were not harmed by the landing and also were not hostile to us. All they asked was food and time to repair their ship. We gave them both and they left with our blessing.”

“And the other?”

Now she frowned, a strange expression given that she smiled so much. “I have never seen anything so strange. It appeared to be like red liquid, slithering around over the stony ground. It was injured and because it was so different there was little we could do to help it and it died.”

“Couldn’t your Healing Spring help?”

She shook her head. “The water burnt the skin, causing further damage. I was seven harvest seasons old at the time.”

They were silent for some time. Eventually Shrela moved towards the entrance.

“Where are you going?” Davros asked quietly.

“You need nutrition if you are to regain your strength. I was going to bring you something to eat.”

***

In the days that followed, Davros learnt to walk again for the first time in centuries. Shrela helped, along with Mensh in the early stages, to support his weight. But after a couple of days he was walking unaided, if slowly, around the village.

Shrela was a constant companion, giving encouragement and keeping him focused. At the end of a week he was ready to try walking beyond the confines of the village.

“Are you sure you are up to it?” Shrela asked, watching closely as Davros shuffled forward, using a stick cut from a nearby tree to assist his balance.

“If determination can get me this far, I’m sure it can get me a little further,” he replied.

“Very well. But I would advise we do not go too far. Did you have a goal in mind?”

Davros pointed with his stick. “What is that large stone building?”

Shrela smiled. “That is the enclosure for the Healing Spring,” she told him.

Returning her smile, Davros set off towards it purposefully. “Then that is something I very much want to see,” he called back to her as she followed him along the smooth path from the village.

Despite the fact that the Spring was only a short distance from the village, Davros was quite worn out by the time he reached it. He tried to hide the fact from Shrela, but she had become an expert at reading his face.

“We shall go inside and rest a while, until you have the strength to return,” she decided, taking his free arm and escorting him inside the stone building.

Inside it was much cooler and fresher. Davros hadn’t realised how warm it was outside until he passed through the doorway. However, the stone floor was pleasantly warm on the soles of his feet, probably heated from below by some natural vent, he decided.

Shrela helped him lower himself onto a stone bench. Similar benches ringed the interior of the building, which was circular. The reason for this was that there was a large circular pool in the centre of the building. The water was crystal clear and bubbled slightly. He couldn’t see the bottom of the pool.

“So, this is where you healed my injuries,” he said after a couple of minutes silence.

“Not me personally, though I did help,” Shrela replied. “We have specially trained attendants who tend to the needs of the injured, seeing that they do not drown and checking to wounds are healing properly.”

“But you did help? With my treatment?”

She nodded. “I am training to be an attendant. I watched over you some nights.”

Again they lapsed into silence for some time. Again Davros broke that silence.

“How long was I in the Spring?”

Shrela considered the question for a few moments. “It took a long time to treat your injuries. You were in the Spring for twenty days, then it was another six before you woke for the first time. I was beginning to think that you would never wake up.”

“And were you there the whole time, waiting for me to awake?”

The young woman reddened slightly, looking down at her feet. “It was my duty,” she said quietly.

He moved his hand to cover hers, which was next to him on the bench. She looked up again, meeting his eyes.

“I think from the way you answered that it was a little more than duty that kept you at my bedside.”

She dazzled him with one of her perfect smiles and raised her free hand to his face. Carefully, with her index finger, she traced the oval scar that had been left by his ocular implant.

“This should have healed by now,” she said simply.

Sliding her other hand out from under his she stood and walked the short distance to the clear water. Bending, she dipped the finger she had used to trace the scar into the water. Then she stood and returned to the bench. Slowly she traced the line of the scar again, this time with her damp finger.

“By morning there should be no scar left,” she said, helping him to stand also.

Davros chuckled slightly. “I think it will take more than a dab of water to remove that scar,” he told her as they headed back for the village.

“Wait until morning and you will see if I am right,” she said lightly, taking his arm.

***

That evening Davros sat alone on his bed in his tent as night fell. The darkness in part matched the steady darkening of his mood.

He had started out happy enough when Shrela had said goodnight. Indeed, he had not felt so happy since his youth on Skaro. This had in turn led him down the gloomy alleyways of memory towards the black heart of his misery.

But his mind rebelled. It didn’t want to face up to that past, to the memories of that fateful day that had made him the man he became. The creator of the Daleks and the betrayer of the Kaled race.

So it was that he shied away from thoughts of Thula, of their visit to her parents and their plans for the future. Plans that had been wiped out by one single sneak attack by the Thals, one act of war that had, in its way, changed the course of Skaro’s history.

These memories that he didn’t want to acknowledge warred with his new feelings, the feelings Shrela stirred deep inside the soul he had thought he no longer possessed.

The old Davros, the Davros born on the day of that fateful Thal attack, wouldn’t have thought twice about destroying Shrela and her people if it would have given an advantage to his Daleks.

But the new Davros, the one born in the regenerative waters of the Healing Spring, was having difficulty imagining his life without Shrela in it. He had only known her for a handful of heartbeats, but it seemed like they had known each other half a lifetime.

Shrela was a beautiful, unspoilt flower. Beside her, he felt like the worst kind of being ever to crawl out of a primordial ocean. He couldn’t, wouldn’t allow her to become corrupted by him. It would change her in all the wrong ways.

He determined that the following day he would tell her of his past, of the evil deeds he had committed against races she could only imagine. After he had horrified her enough to quash any lingering feelings she might have for him in return, he would leave the village. He didn't know where he would go, just somewhere away from these good, honest people.

His course set, he fell into an uneasy sleep, his nightmares revisiting the war-torn world of Skaro.

***

In the morning Davros awoke from his troubled night and stumbled over to his small table, with its basin and mirrored sheet of metal.

As he began his morning shave his eyes strayed upward over his reflection. Moments later he dropped his shaving blade.

His now empty fingers explored his forehead, trying to find any trace of the ocular implant scar. He found none.

***

“You see?” laughed Shrela. “I told you the scar would be gone, but you did not believe me.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t believe you,” Davros replied quickly. “It was just that I didn’t understand the strength of the Spring.”

“And you disbelieved my faith in it,” she teased him. She had her arm looped through his as they returned to the building that housed the Spring.

“That’s not true,” he blustered, then realised what she was doing. He scowled slightly. “You’re supposed to be helping my recovery, not winding me up!”

She punched him lightly on the arm, grinning. “I do not think you need any more help to recover. I think you are playing on my sympathy.”

“What sympathy?” he shot back, though he was smiling.

They had reached the site of the Spring. As before, the building was empty, none of the natives needing its restorative powers right now.

“This should be your last treatment,” Shrela said as they stepped towards the water’s edge. “Then we shall see if you are fully fit again.”

Davros knelt stiffly beside the pool, which lapped gently onto the rock floor of the chamber. He ran a hand through the slightly sparkling water.

“It’s amazing,” he murmured. “That this water is capable of so much.”

Shrela helped him to his feet, then took a pace away from the edge. She shrugged off her simple robe and stood, naked, at the side of the pool.

Davros was stunned silent for a few moments, unable to look anywhere except at her perfect form.

“What are you doing?” he croaked eventually.

“My job. Assisting with your treatment.” Her voice betrayed a slight tremor however.

He nodded, tearing his gaze away. He moved towards the waters, but her voice stopped him.

“The powers of the Spring work best in direct contact with the skin.”

With a brief flush of embarrassment, he slipped off the rough tunic and pants that had been provided for him. Now he was naked too.

“Good,” whispered Shrela, her warm breath tickling his neck. “Now, follow me.”

She stepped past him and took his hand in hers, gently pulling him with her. Together, hand in hand, they walked down the shallow steps under the edge of the water until they were floating side by side in the pool.

Shrela caught his eye and for a long moment neither of them spoke. Then she reached out, pushing his shoulders slightly backwards.

Davros’ body tilted until he was floating on his back, staring at the rock ceiling of the cavern.

“Allow your mind to clear,” Shrela’s soft voice told him. “Let your thoughts drift upon the waters. The Spring works best when the mind is clear and calm.”

Davros did as instructed, letting his mind clear as best he could.

“The waters permeate through the skin, penetrating the whole of the body. Relax and let the water flow through you, destroying any final poisons and toxins within and purging the pain and stiffness from the muscles, joints and sinews.”

He listened to her soothing voice, his drifting mind finding the most recent image of her stored in his memory. Her naked body, standing shamelessly before him. He felt a tingling sensation in his lower body that had nothing to do with the healing waters around him.

Embarrassed, he floundered quickly, turning his body so only his shoulders and head were clear of the water.

Davros’ eyes locked with Shrela’s and he knew she had seen what had been happening moments earlier.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking away from her steady gaze. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“No need to apologise,” she told him, smiling. Somehow, without him noticing, she had moved up very close. “It was a natural reaction.”

And before he could protest further, she leaned in and kissed him.

After a moment of total surprise he responded hungrily. Below the level of the water, the tingling sensation returned.

Then, as suddenly as the kiss had begun, Davros ended it. He pulled away, putting a little distance between himself and Shrela. But not too much.

“I can’t allow this to happen,” he said anxiously. “I’m not a good man. I’ve done wicked things, evil things. I’ve ordered the deaths of many people. I’m not a man you would want to love.”

Shrela looked calmly at him. “Did you do those things for a cause you believed in?”

“Well, yes,” he replied, slightly confused by where her question could be going.

“And you did them in the past. Do you intend to do similar things in the future?”

“No!” He shook his head vehemently. “But that’s not the point! The things I’ve done…”

She closed the distance between them, placing the fingers of her right hand gently against his mouth. “I have little interest in what you have done in the past. Those events were driven by the circumstances of the time. And that was a different you. This is the new you. All that matters is what you do in the now.” She paused, moving her fingers away. She looked deep into his eyes. “What do you want to do in the now?”

He didn’t need to think about that. Reaching forward, he grasped her shoulders and drew her into another long and hungry kiss.

When they finally released each other, they knew in their hearts exactly what would happen next. Reaching down into the water, Davros scooped Shrela into his arms. He carried her from the pool on strong and powerful legs, lowering them both to the warm stone floor.

They embraced, giving in to their desires without even waiting to dry the water from their bodies.

***

Time passed.

Their passions finally spent, Davros and Shrela lay curled up together in a warm embrace. They could feel each other’s heartbeats, hear the other person breathing softly. They were totally at ease and comfortable with the other person’s presence.

“Who is Thula?”

Davros was caught unawares by the question. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Just before we kissed the second time, you whispered “Thula forgive me”. I was wondering who Thula was.”

He sighed, tightening their embrace. “I didn’t expect you to hear that.” He paused, collecting his thoughts. “She was the first woman I ever loved. And the last, before you.”

“Tell me about her,” Shrela requested.

Davros frowned. He had been avoiding those memories almost since he had awoken on this world. But maybe it was time now to finally face that part of his past. To deal with it and put it behind him. To move on.

“It all began a long time ago, on another world…”

***

Young Davros was the brightest bio-engineer of his generation. Some said he had the potential to be the greatest Kaled scientist ever. Needless to say his parents, a decorated war hero and a celebrated military surgeon, were very proud of their only child. Especially when he was selected as the joint youngest member of the newly formed Scientific Military Elite.

The other youngster among their ranks was Thula, a talented and strong willed chemist whose intellect was a match for Davros despite their different fields. The two of them became known as the Golden Kids, destined for greatness. Everyone among their colleagues also expected them to become involved.

Not only were Thula and Davros exceptional scientists, they both had ‘recruitment poster’ looks as well. He was dark haired, dark eyed and handsome while she was blonde, blue eyed and beautiful.

Yet it was only in the aftermath of the death of Davros’ parents that the predictions were proved correct and the Golden Kids became lovers.

When word came through that the Eighth Battalion, lead by Davros’ father and including his mother as CMO, had been wiped out in a battle with the Thals, their son was naturally devastated. Coming from a career military family herself, Thula knew how difficult the loss would be for him. She offered what comfort she could and his gratitude for her help and support became mutual understanding and respect. From there it was a short journey to love.

Their affair was a whirlwind of passion. After two short months they were sure they wanted to build a future together. So it was that they set out on three days mutual leave to visit Thula’s parents.

The meeting was a great success. Thula’s mother and father took to their future son-in-law immediately and he was equally taken with them.

On the second day of their leave, the two young lovers went out into the city, intent on making plans for their joining.

A Thal agent, genetically altered to pass for a Kaled, had other ideas. He released a biological bomb in a busy street, completing his suicide mission to deadly effect.

When people around them started falling down dead, Thula quickly realised what was happening. Whether by instinct or her chemist training, she would not live to tell.

What she did manage to do was push Davros through a shop doorway. As the nerve toxins shredded her body she managed to pull the door closed, sealing the way with her corpse.

When the biohazard team arrived they found Davros inside the shop. He had terrible injuries but thanks to Thula he was alive.

It took almost half a year for Davros to emerge from the hospital. His legs had withered to mere stumps. One arm was now completely useless, hanging limply at his side. His eyes no longer functioned, his hearing and voice had to be enhanced mechanically. An ocular implant had been wired directly into his brain, sitting in the centre of his forehead.

All his internal organs, as well as his skin, had suffered cellular decay. None who had known him before recognised the wizened figure now confined to a wheelchair that was also a life support system.

Despite her final efforts, Thula had been unable to save the man she loved. A new Davros had replaced that man.

***

The two lovers were silent for some time after Davros finished his tale. They remained in each other’s arms, drawing comfort from the warmth of their closeness.

“You must have loved her very much,” Shrela said eventually.

Davros nodded. “I wanted to exterminate every Thal that ever existed to bring her back,” he told her, his voice catching in his throat.

“And did you?”

He smiled grimly. “I had a very good try. I dedicated my life to devising weapons of mass destruction to use against them. But eventually my research led me in another direction.”

“What direction was that?”

Davros frowned. “Centuries of germ warfare and radiation bombardment were causing a cascade mutation in my people, the Kaleds. I used genetic manipulation to force the pace, giving us a final form for that mutation. Then I set about creating a self contained support unit to help the creature survive.”

“Sounds like a noble cause,” Shrela commented.

“It would have been, if I hadn’t perverted it. I removed what I perceived to be weak emotions from the mutated creatures. Love, mercy, compassion. All the things I had lost along with Thula and my dreams of the future. I created beings of pure hate, trapped inside mobile armoured tanks.”

Again the silence descended. Again it was Shrela who finally broke it.

“How do you feel now?”

Davros paused before answering. “I regret some of the things I did. But a selfish part of me can’t help thinking that if I hadn’t done those things, I would never have found myself here. We wouldn’t be together now, enjoying each other’s company. For that reason alone I don’t think I would change anything. Is that wrong of me?”

Shrela considered the question before replying. “What you did, you did out of blind hatred for those who you saw as the people who had taken your future away and left you alone and crippled. You lashed out and continued to lash out, because that was all you knew then. But now you know differently. You have had your health and life returned to you.”

“Put like that, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

She turned in his arms so she could look him in the eyes. “Would you not change anything? Not the attack? Not even to save Thula?”

“No,” he replied instantly. “The sins of my past have delivered me into your arms. You are my life now, my future. Thula and Skaro are past and gone.”

She smiled and leaned forward. Their lips met and they dissolved into another passionate embrace.

***

Now that he had officially been declared fit by Shrela, Davros offered his services to Rentu and the village. He was put to work with the younger men, who were digging irrigation channels to help keep the crops supplied with water.

He was able to suggest ways of rotating the crops, potentially increasing the yield to keep the village fed throughout future seasons. Rentu in particular came to value his input.

Most importantly of all, Davros found that he was enjoying the physical aspects of his new work.

Not that he was short of physical exercise, Shrela saw to that. A few weeks after the day in the pool, he formally requested a bonding ceremony. Rentu gave his blessing and agreed to officiate.

But before he could pledge himself fully to his new life and love, there was one last thing he needed to do. One final link to sever with his past.

***

“You don’t seem surprised that I’m doing this,” Davros commented as Shrela led him along the track towards the mountains.

“That is because I am not surprised,” she told him. “It is common for the young men of the village to fulfil a quest before their bonding ceremony.”

Davros smiled slightly. “This isn’t exactly an ordinary quest.”

Shrela returned his smile. “And the young men do not usually take their bonding partners with them on their quests.”

As they walked hand in hand through the trees, Davros decided to ask his beloved about something he had noticed while he had been working in the fields.

“Mensh has been giving me some nasty looks since we announced our bonding.”

Shrela laughed lightly. “Mensh has been interested in me since we played together as children. He has never had the courage to request a bonding. Now you, a visitor from the stars, has beaten him to it.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Davros said, his face darkening. “You might have been better with one of your own people, rather than me.”

“Do you regret pledging yourself to me?” Shrela inquired.

“Not at all,” he replied quickly. “I was thinking of you.”

“I am old enough to make my own choices,” she scolded mildly. “I choose to be with you. If you are happy with that, then so am I.”

Davros grinned. “I’m more than happy.”

They continued in companionable silence until they reached their destination. The site of the crashed lifepod.

“What a mess,” Davros commented, taking in the scorched and blackened remains of the survival craft. “It’s a wonder I made it out alive.”

“You would not have, if the doorway had not ruptured on impact and thrown you clear.”

Davros looked around, searching for something. “Did you say my chair was here?”

Shrela nodded. “After the fire had died, we stored it inside, in case you wanted it for any reason. Like now.”

Davros was standing on the threshold of the pod. Just inside was what he was looking for. The black and silver prison he had been condemned to for all those years ago. His wheelchair.

He tipped the chair over, peering inside. He could see where the villagers had cut through wires and pipes to free him.

Then he saw the item that had concerned him for the last few days. He had hoped it had been damaged or destroyed but needed to check for himself. Good job he had.

He reached out and grasped the device, which was pulsing with a steady rhythm, signalling its position to any Dalek ships within transmission range. With one violent pull he dragged the homing beacon free, cutting off the signal once and for all.

Shrela watched as he dropped the small clear plastic box to the ground and stamped on it. Doing so didn’t make any difference, except to make Davros feel better.

“Trouble?” Shrela asked, worried by the look on his face.

“I hope not,” he replied, knowing he had severed the last link in the chain of his past.

***

Some distance away, at least in astronomical terms, a ship had received the signal. A Dalek ship.

“Have-you-triangulated-the-source-of-the-Emperor’s-homing-beacon?” asked the Dalek in command.

“I-have,” confirmed the Dalek at the monitoring station.

“Inform-the-leaders-on-Sagitarn-4.”

“I-obey.”

Moments later a light on the console faded and died.

“Signal-terminated-at-source,” reported the monitoring Dalek.

“No-mater. We-have-the-position-of-the-transmission. We-can-rescue-the-Emperor. Full-speed-to-the-source.”

“I-obey.”

***

In the space/time vortex, another craft had picked up the signal also. This ship, at once smaller and larger than the Dalek ship, changed its course to follow the signal to its source.

***

A few days after the trip to for foot of the mountains, Davros and Shrela were officially bonded. Rentu presided of the formal ceremony and a traditional feast followed it. Afterwards, Mensh came over and congratulated the happy couple. And he seemed to mean it as well.

As the growing season turned into the harvest season, Davros and Shrela lived happily together as part of the village. As the harvest season neared its end, she announced, first to Davros and then to the village as a whole, that by the time the next growing season arrived, so would their first child.

So it was that as the cold season began, there was much joy in the village at the prospects for the year ahead. Davros and Shrela settled down to enjoy their lives and look forward to a long and happy future together.

But their peace and tranquillity was shattered by the arrival, one night during the early weeks of the cold season, of more visitors from the stars.

***

The shrieking, grinding sound cut through the still air of the village like metal against stone. It woke Davros with a start, not so much because of its harshness, but more because it was a sound he found familiar.

He strode quickly from the tent he shared with Shrela, to discover that he was right. A tall blue box had materialised in the centre of the village and a small man in sombre clothing was just exiting the box and locking the door.

The newcomer turned from his task and smiled at the tall stranger in native clothing. He raised the hat perched on his head.

“Greetings. I wonder if you could help me. I’m known as the Doctor…”

Davros crossed quickly to him, his right arm swinging. As the punch landed squarely on the Doctor’s chin, he heard the words “I know who you are,” before the world around him plunged into blackness.

***

“I still do not understand why you hit him,” Shrela protested. She had taken the new arrival into their tent after Davros’ punch and was now trying to revive him. “And in front of most of the village too.”

“It was personal,” Davros muttered darkly.

The newcomer stirred and raised himself on his elbows. “What hit me?”

“He did,” Shrela replied, casting a dark look at her bond mate. “I am sorry about that, it will not happen again. I am Shrela.”

“How do you do? I’m the Doctor.” He looked curiously at his attacker. “You said you knew who I was. As I’ve never been to this world, I don’t know how that can be.”

“It makes a change for you not to have an answer for something,” came the dark reply.

The Doctor frowned. “You do seem to know me.” He paused, as if considering something. “I came here in response to a homing beacon. I was expecting to find someone I knew here, as I recognised the type of beacon I was following. So the obvious conclusion to draw would be that I have found the person I was looking for.”

“That would seem to be the logical conclusion, wouldn’t it?”

The frown on the Doctor’s face deepened. “But that can’t be. The man I’m looking for is crippled, confined to a wheelchair. He’s not a young man with a wife and family on the way.” He glanced at the swelling of Shrela’s stomach. “You can’t be Davros.”

Shrela gasped. “You do know each other!” she exclaimed.

The Doctor looked deep into the eyes of the man sitting across from him. There was intelligence there, passion and curiosity. And something else. Pain. A universe of pain.

“It is you,” he breathed.

Davros nodded, his anger of before spent. “That’s right Doctor. I bet you never thought we would meet again under these circumstances after you destroyed Skaro and my army of Daleks along with it.”

The Doctor shook his head dumbly, obviously still having trouble taking the revelation in. So Davros explained about the crash, the Healing Spring, how he had learnt to walk again, learnt to live again and love again. Of how he had come to terms with the evils of his past and the ghosts that lived there. Of how he had built a future for himself here and how he wouldn’t let that go without a fight.

“So you see, Doctor,” he concluded, “if you had plans to collect the crippled mad scientist and see him put on trial for his crimes, you’ve come to the wrong place. I’m not leaving here and even a Time Lord can’t make me.”

The Doctor nodded. He had listened throughout with rapt attention, not interrupting at any stage of the narrative. Now he paused for thought before replying.

“My only concern in coming here was to prevent you from trying to rebuild your army of Daleks and spreading their terror and destruction throughout the universe again. I see that is no longer part of your plans. But plans, like people, can change.”

“Not this person, not any more,” Davros told him. “I’m happy here, truly happy for possibly the first time in my life. I’m not looking to lead an army, at least not one consisting of anything other than my own children at play. So you can climb back into the TARDIS and go back to frustrating the schemes of monsters and megalomaniacs safe in the knowledge that the threat of Davros is safe, that he is growing old with his family.”

“If only it were that simple,” the Doctor sighed, straightening his tweed jacket.

Something in his voice caught Davros’ attention. “What do you mean by that?”

“There is a barrier around this planet, probably not a natural one but its origin is of no importance. It allows only the smallest of ships through, while larger ships would suffer structural damage and probably be destroyed in the upper atmosphere.”

Davros frowned. “What of it?”

“As I piloted the TARDIS through the barrier, I noticed a Dalek patrol ship closing on these co-ordinates. Presumably they were following the same signal I was, the one I assume you managed to cut off at some point. Now, despite the fact that ship won’t make it to the ground, you can be sure that if they think Davros is down here, they will find a way to get through. Even if it’s sending Daleks down individually, on floating platforms.”

As the Doctor had been speaking, Davros had grown pale. Shrela placed a hand on his arm.

“What is wrong, my love?”

Davros swallowed. “It seems my past is catching up with me,” he replied shakily.

***

In orbit around the planet, scans were being made of the energy barrier.

“This-ship-cannot-penetrate-the-energy-shield-around-this-world,” reported the Dalek at the scientific console. “It-would-overload-our-drive-systems-and-cause-an-explosion-in-the-reactor-core.”

“Can-we-blast-our-way-through?” asked the Dalek in command.

“Negative.”

“We-must-rescue-the-Emperor.”

“The-shield-could-be-breached-by-a-smaller-ship.”

The command Dalek considered for a moment. “Could-a-scout-ship-get-through?”

“Affirmative.”

“Order-a-crew-to-assemble-in-the-docking-bay. Prepare-a-scout-ship-for-launch.”

“I-obey.”

***

Davros was up and pacing the floor of the tent, running his fingers through his hair. Shrela and the Doctor watched him, one with a concerned expression, the other with an icy calm.

“The Daleks are in orbit,” Davros said. “Once that would have filled me with pride at their resourcefulness in finding me, their ruthless determination to recover their leader. Now it fills me with dread.”

“So what are you going to do?” the Doctor inquired mildly.

“What can I do? I’m going to refuse to go with them of course!”

Shrela smiled but the Doctor just shook his head.

“You know how determined they are, you instilled it into them after all. They won’t just pack up and leave without you. What do you think they’re going to do? Apologise for bothering you and wish you well for the future?”

“Then what do you suggest?” Davros yelled at the Time Lord.

The Doctor stood, drawing himself up to his full height, which still left him half a head shorter than his one time nemesis.

“You should go back to them.”

This shocked Davros. “What? After all you’ve said, coming here to stop me from building a new Dalek army, you think I should go back and do just that? Have you finally gone mad?”

The Doctor shook his head. “I’ve seen what you have become here, how this place has changed you. Never before in the past, when I made impassioned pleas for you to change the nature of the Daleks, did I ever really think that you would do it. But now, now you could mould the Daleks into a force for good. The force you always wanted them to be. You still have your genetic skills. You could change the fundamental nature of the Daleks. Make them something you could now be proud of.”

Davros’ face clouded over as he considered what the Doctor had said. Was it really possible? Was that why he had been given this new start, this second chance? Could he finally make a difference, for the better?

He looked over at Shrela. She moved up beside him, laying a hand on his arm and smiling.

“Whatever you decide to do, I shall support you. I shall be with you every step of the way.”

Davros shook his head quickly. “No. No, I can’t allow you to come with me. If I leave with the Daleks, you must stay here.”

“I am not leaving you,” she told him firmly and he could see the steel in her eyes. “Where you go, I go. There is no other option.”

He looked hopelessly at the Doctor. “I could still refuse to go with them.”

“And they will massacre the people of this village until you agree to their demands,” replied the Time Lord. “I don’t think you would stand by and let them do that. Not now.”

“Then it seems I have little choice.”

The Doctor smiled sadly. “There is always a choice. It’s just choosing the right one that’s the difficult part.” He looked deep into Davros’ eyes. “However, there is a possible third option.”

Davros raised an eyebrow. “What third option?”

The Doctor frowned. “It would involve you betraying your past, all the things you once considered important. But it would save your future and ensure your peace and that of your family.”

“I’ll do it, whatever it takes,” Davros told him. He took Shrela’s hand and she smiled up at her bond mate. “Whatever it takes.”

The Doctor outlined his plan to Davros and Shrela. When he had finished Davros nodded once, signalling his agreement.

He extended his hand to the Doctor, who took it after a moment of surprise. The two men shook on their plan, watching each other carefully.

“I never thought I would agree to something like this,” Davros admitted.

“Me neither, if that’s any help,” the Doctor said as he led Davros and Shrela out to the TARDIS. “The universe keeps finding ways to surprise me.”

The Doctor unlocked the door of the TARDIS and disappeared inside. A minute later he returned, carrying a glass vial carefully. He passed it to Davros, who concealed it inside his rough shirt.

Before any of them could speak, a noise from above echoed through the village. Looking up they saw a small bulky white shape dropping through the air to land at the outer edge of the village. They all knew what it was.

“You should go,” Davros told the Doctor. “If they catch you here, you’ll be exterminated without question.”

The Time Lord shook his head. “I should stay,” he protested.

Davros scowled. “Keeping an eye on me, Doctor? Making sure I don’t return to my old ways?”

“Not at all,” the Time Lord replied. He looked Davros straight in they eye. “I understand now that you’ve built yourself a life here, something you won’t give up. I know you’ll do the right thing. But I want to stay, to look after Shrela.”

The young woman smiled at the Doctor, placing a hand on his arm. “Maybe I should look after you.”

The Doctor grinned. “Maybe you should.”

Davros kissed Shrela briefly, then squared his shoulders and set off walking towards where the Dalek ship had landed. “Very well Doctor,” he called over his shoulder. “I shall not let myself down.”

***

The shuttle had landed on the path that led towards the mountains where the escape pod had crashed. How ironic, Davros thought as he waited for the hatch to swing open.

When the hatch did open and the ramp descended, it brought with it three Daleks. One of the white and gold variety that Davros himself had nurtured during his period as Emperor, one of the grey and black so called renegade faction and a Black Dalek, a leader of that renegade faction. This in itself was a surprise, as when he had left his ship in Earth orbit, these two Dalek factions had been bitter enemies.

He approached the Daleks slowly, his emotions in turmoil. Where once he would have felt pride in his Daleks, now he felt nervousness, even fear. Not for himself he realised, but for the good people who had taken care of him. For Shrela and their unborn child.

“Halt! Do-not-approach-any-closer.”

Davros spread his arms wide. “I am unarmed. I cannot hurt you.”

“Obey-the-Daleks-or-you-will-be-exterminated!”

For one mad moment, Davros considered disobeying the Dalek. Let it exterminate him. It would be an end to his troubles. The Daleks would leave and Shrela and her people would continue to live in peace and harmony.

But he couldn’t guarantee that the Daleks would leave the village and its occupants untouched. He had to go through with this. He had a responsibility to put right the sins of his past.

“I believe you are looking for me,” Davros told the Daleks, though he stayed a respectful distance away from them.

“We-seek-our-Emperor. We-seek-the-one-called-Davros,” chanted the Imperial Dalek.

“Then you have found him. I am Davros.”

The Daleks milled around in confusion for a moment, before the Black Dalek glided forward.

“You-lie. You-are-nothing-like-Davros.”

How right you are, thought Davros. Aloud he said, “Check my DNA against the records in your database. That will tell you whether or not I’m lying to you.”

The Black Dalek seemed to consider this. “Step-forward,” it commanded.

Davros did as instructed. He was aware of a small crowd of villagers gathering behind him, watching these new visitors from the sky with wary curiosity.

“Hold-out-your-right-hand.”

Again Davros obeyed. The Black Dalek brought the flexible cup on the end of its arm into contact with the hand. Davros felt the small sharp pain of a needle as it extended from the centre of the cup. It drew a sample of blood from his hand and withdrew while the onboard computer analysed this and gave its results.

“What are these beings?” whispered the voice of Rentu. He was standing close behind Davros, looking over at the cluster of Daleks.

“They are the mutated remnants of my people,” Davros told him sadly. “I’m afraid they have returned for me.”

“I thought you were happy here,” Rentu commented.

“I am very happy here,” Davros replied. “But we had another visitor tonight, one who was also known to me. He reminded me of my wider responsibilities.”

“What of your responsibilities to us? To Shrela and your own unborn child?”

“Those are the responsibilities I was talking about.”

“I do not understand,” Rentu admitted.

Davros looked the leader of his new people in the eye. “I am going with the Daleks. It is the only way I can save you all from their wrath.”

“This is madness,” protested Rentu, though he didn’t raise his voice to alert the Daleks. “What of Shrela?”

“She will soon forget me,” Davros said through the lump in his throat. “She will have a better life here than she would where I have to go.”

Rentu broke his gaze but remained silent. Though somehow that silence was more condemning than a thousand harsh words.

The Black Dalek, who had got the results of the DNA scan, glided forward.

“You-are-Davros.”

“Yes, I know. I told you that.”

“You-are-different,” the Black Dalek observed.

“Ah, yes. Well, that’s rather a long story. Maybe we should talk about it on board your ship.”

“Emperor-Davros-will-board-the-shuttle-and-be-taken-to-our-ship-in-orbit.”

Davros moved forward towards the ramp, the grey and black Daleks forming an escort for him.

Davros paused at the bottom of the ramp, looking back over the villagers he had come to know so well. He looked for Shrela, but realised she and the Doctor would be keeping undercover, in case the Time Lord was recognised.

“You are to leave these people in peace to continue their lives. They are no threat to the Daleks.”

“We-understand,” the three Daleks chorused.

“Do you obey?”

“We-obey-the-Emperor.”

Davros nodded. He turned his back on the village and walked up the ramp and into the Dalek shuttle, leaving behind the future he had planned for one that was uncertain at best.

***

The journey through the energy barrier didn’t take long. As he exited the shuttle Davros felt a nagging pain in his left knee, but ignored it, instead watching the Daleks carefully as he was led to the bridge.

“Emperor-on-the-bridge,” grated the Black Dalek as they stepped into the circular chamber.

A number of Daleks swivelled to look at them. One glided forward. Davros recognised it as an Imperial Command Dalek.

“Welcome-Emperor,” it said simply.

Davros smiled slightly. “You don’t seem surprised by my appearance.”

“A-full-report-including-the-results-of-the-DNA-scan-were-transmitted-from-the-surface. It-has-been-forwarded-to-Sagitarn-base.”

“Of course,” Davros replied. The ache in his knee was getting stronger but he continued to ignore the pain. “What is the status of the Daleks?”

“Both-sides-suffered-many-loses-as-a-result-of-the-Doctor’s-trickery. The-remaining-Daleks-of-both-sides-have-established-a-joint-base-from-which-we-intend-to-incubate-and-build-a-new-Dalek-army.”

Davros nodded. “You have been busy.” He looked around the bridge, wondering where best to commit his act of treachery.

He noticed a lone Dalek at the monitoring position. Pretending to be interested, he moved over beside it, slipping his hand inside his shirt.

“What is the current strength of the forces on the new base planet?”

The monitor Dalek swung its eyestalk towards him. “Last-report-stated-almost-sixty-thousand-Dalek-units-and-growing.”

“Good,” Davros said. He passed a hand over his eyes. He was starting to feel a little dizzy. Better get on with it, he decided.

He pulled his hand out of his shirt and received a shock. His hand. Where the skin had been healthy and pink just an hour ago, now it was starting to pucker. As he watched the colour darkened, becoming brown. Just like it had been once before.

The pain in his knee had now transferred to the other joints of both his legs. The realisation hit him like a hammer blow. The Healing Spring. It must only work while you were in contact with the planet. He was regressing, returning to the state he had been in before arriving here. And he was without his chair this time.

Davros smiled sadly, working through the pain now shooting up his legs and pushing his now fragile body to move under his command.

He removed the top from the vial, out of sight of any of the Daleks on the bridge. He knew he would have to wait until he was sure this had worked. He just hoped he wouldn’t be too weak by then to escape.

“What-is-happening?” asked the Command Dalek.

Around the bridge Dalek units were finding it difficult to move around. Their movements became jerky, not the fluid grace they usually had. One by one they started grinding to a halt, white foam bursting from their casings.

“The final end,” Davros murmured, moving shakily across the bridge to where he knew salvation lay.

Suddenly he heard the voice of the Command Dalek close behind him. It seemed the creature had a stronger constitution than its fellows.

“What-have-you-done?”

Davros turned painfully. He could see the Command Dalek was suffering the effects like the others around them, but some determination kept it going.

“I’ve infected you with a fast acting version of the Movellan virus,” he told it with a satisfied note in his voice. “It was given to me by the Doctor.”

“You-have-betrayed-the-Dalek-race. You-will-be-exterminated!”

Davros closed his eyes, waiting for the deathblow to arrive. When it didn’t, he risked opening one eye.

The Command Dalek was a mass of white foam. Its gunstick had dropped, no longer aimed at him. The virus had claimed it before it could take his life. Davros smiled slightly, wondering if he had been saved for a reason.

He realised that if he didn’t leave quickly, his life would be snuffed out anyway. Stiff legged with pain, he stumbled towards the escape pod. All the while he could see the smiling face of Shrela in his mind’s eye, willing him onwards.

***

Rentu and Mensh were staring up at the sky when a small star flared briefly, then died again.

“What was that?” Mensh asked his leader.

Rentu smiled grimly. “That was Davros taking his place among the stars.”

***

The Doctor and Shrela were also watching the sky when the pinpoint of light burst into brief activity. She turned to the Time Lord.

“That is their ship, is it not?”

The Doctor nodded grimly, his eyes filled with sadness. “Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

Shrela’s eyes filled with tears and she buried her face into the harsh material of his shoulder. The Doctor patted her awkwardly on the back, uncomfortable with the show of raw emotion.

At the edge of his vision he saw something in the sky. Turning slightly, he drew the attention of the distraught Shrela to it.

From a point close to where the Dalek ship had exploded, a streak of flame blazed across the sky, heading downwards in the direction of the nearby mountains. Shrela, drying her tears, looked hopefully at the Doctor.

“Could it be…?”

“Possibly,” he replied, not wanting to get her hopes up too much. “But if it is and I’m right in my suspicions about this Healing Spring of yours, he’ll need help, and quickly.”

Together, they went to round up a party of villagers, hoping against hope there was still time to complete a rescue mission.

***

On the fourth planet of the Sagitarn system, the Daleks were massing their forces and building up their new army. In the command centre, the two Daleks in charge, one from each of the factions, were sifting through reports from all over the sector.

A Dalek approached them with a report.

“The-transponder-beacon-on-the-ship-that-had-rescued-the-Emperor-has-stopped-transmitting.”

The Imperial Command Dalek considered this news. “Then-the-ship-has-been-destroyed.”

“And-the-Emperor-along-with-it,” added the Black Dalek beside it.

“Emperor-Davros-was-an-important-part-of-our-plans-but-not-irreplaceable. We-can-rebuild-without-him.”

“What-of-the-humanoid-prisoners-we-captured?”

“They-have-been-confined,” replied the Imperial Dalek.

“Shall-we-interrogate-them-now?”

“No. It-has-been-observed-that-humanoids-require-nutrition-and-rest. If-we-deprive-them-of-both-they-will-answer-our-questions-more-readily.”

“Then-we-shall-exterminate-them!”

***

Epilogue - Sleeper Awake

Consciousness returned slowly. But then, that was becoming something of a habit.

For a moment he tried to access his ocular implant, but then common sense kicked in and he tried opening his eyes instead.

There was fuzzy light, emanating from a source all around him. He seemed to be floating, which was unexpected. And out of the blurred light a vision was starting to form. A face.

No, he had been right first time, it was a vision. A vision of beauty that he thought he would never look upon again. Shrela.

“You are awake!” she exclaimed, her smile wide enough to bridge the stars.

He nodded, wetting the back of his head. “I came back to you.”

Shrela, standing with him in the Healing Spring, flung her arms around him and started to weep. He held her close in his aching arms, realising she was naked and glad that none of the other villagers were around to share this private moment.

“I thought we had found you too late,” she said between sobs.

“Too late?” he inquired, his throat a little scratchy.

“When we opened the escape pod, you were in almost the same condition as when we first found you. Only without your life support unit. I thought you were going to die.”

He tightened their embrace, careful not to press against the bump of her extended stomach. “But I’m going to be alright?”

She disengaged, stepping back to look deep into his eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “Your doctor will have you up and about in no time.”

Davros frowned slightly. “Talking of doctors, is the Doctor still here?”

Shrela shook her head. “He helped in the rescue and stayed until it seemed you would recover, then he returned to his box and vanished.”

Davros’ eyes grew distant. “We were on different sides for such a long time. It seemed strange to accept his help to destroy some of my own creations. But it had to be done, for the sake of our future.”

“Will these Daleks ever return?” she wanted to know, snuggling up against him again.

“I doubt it,” he replied. “They transmitted a message from the ship while I was in the shuttle, saying I had been retrieved. When their base lost the signal of the ship, they would have assumed I was destroyed along with it.”

“You almost were,” she told him in a slightly scolding manner.

“But I wasn’t,” he said, ruffling her hair. “You’re stuck with me now. Forever.”