Author's Note: This is set just after the Seventh Doctor story "Remembrance of the Daleks."


It's boring. Really, really boring. Walking to school on a cold November morning, my breath steaming out of my mouth. Walking alone to school. I used to walk with friends, but not any more. Not since...

I'm glad, anyway. Of it being boring. After the past few weeks, I love boring. I don't remember much, but I know that it was Martians. It's those Sputniks they keep sending up. It is attracting their attention. Alien eyes are watching us, gazing on our planet, and they are not friendly eyes. Its exactly like what HG Wells wrote about. And viruses won't kill them. I remember being taken to their mothership, and they... interfered with me. They wanted to stop me growing. They did things to my brain. Added things. They made me think I was one of them.

I look up, seeing the yellow bricks of my Victorian-built school, the blue painted sign, dirty with London pollution. At least the smog no longer happens. Made the city grubby and smelly. It still it, but it's better now. I wish I didn't have to live in the city. I'll just end up married, or working in a shop. Its not like I have many options, going to a Secondary Comprehensive school. I know Mama wants me to do better that her and Papa, better than running a grocery shop. Mama kept calling gifted, that I can do anything, even be Prime Minister. Like that can happen. A Woman in charge of Government, let alone the daughter of a grocer... It's why they called me Terrianna, to make me seem sophisticated and elegant. Terrianna Nation, the name of a lady with culture, they kept on – keep on – saying.

But they must be disappointed with me. I like to daydream. I want to think of better worlds, a better, more exciting life. My headmaster, Mr. Parson, he encouraged it. He was nice. I didn't know it, but he mentioned me to Mr. Ratcliffe. He did some building work for Mr. Parson. I know this because of the abduction. The Martians wanted me to have that information, to make me less human. All I know is that I understand that we humans are weak. And very, fragile. All of the machinery they put inside me is still there inside of me, switched off. Except the parts attached to my organs; my liver, kidneys, my heart. This Doctor chap that was with the girl with tyhe strange portable music box said that they were too integrated. They were put in to make them work better. And now, they can't be switched off, because of the damage done to them when they were put in. They also added bits to my brain, but that isn't switched on. Well, it is, but the Doctor went and switched off most of it. I can't hear the voices any more. That's good. I didn't like the way they kept on speaking about killing. And after a while, I started to like it. Like killing. I was hating myself for not being like them. Not being one of them. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry. The army people didn't want to isolate me, because the Doctor, the man – Martian – felt I had suffered enough. He never even told them about me.

He had been my enemy when I had been attached to the Martian war computer. And he helped me. He showed me mercy, when I wouldn't have... not when I was part of that machine.

I can't believe that all of this happened five days ago. My life is normal again, except for the regular medical checks. He showed me how to use this equipment he gave me. To make sure the machine parts in me don't try to take me over, or break down. I don't like this thought. That I can break down like I am a car, or a train. But the voices are gone. At least the voices-

"We shall become all powerful! We shall crush the lesser races! We shall conquer the galaxy! Unimaginable power, Unlimited rice pudding! Victory in this War will guarantee this! All Daleks unite! We will have victory against the Time Lords! We will take their weapons, the accursed Hand of Omega and the Rice Pudding the Doctor mentioned, and then we will rule all the galaxies in all time! Daleks will reign supreme!"

No... No! Not again! Please, God, not again!


I swallow hard, my breathing getting faster when I see two large men walking towards me. They work for them. Work for the Martians. I know it, because I can hear them. In my head. The aliens have switched the brain parts back on. I can see symbols and images, information not in any Earth language. I want to run. I must run away, must...

But my legs... they refuse to work. The cybernetic implants in my cortex nodes are inhibiting motor function.

Oh no... I'm thinking like a Martian again! Please, not again... The men, they are nearly beside me, and I feel my legs turn me around, and away from the school. I can't fight... can't resist. I feel it flooding back into me. The thoughts, the desires... I feel colder. I want... I want to connect again. It would be simpler.

But I'm human. I want to stay that way....

I can see the other school children walking to school, to study physics, mathematics, English... but I know I'll soon be studying battle formations.

But this can't be happening! The Doctor said he had destroyed them all! I felt the last one of the group that had taken me suffer in pain as it realised it was all alone, and had no way of destroying its enemies, and the agony of instigating the process of molecular implosion. Those words... my mind is filling up with them again. And the hate. The hate for anything not Martian. Dalek. Not Martian. I have all this information inside me now... they have another battle computer. It managed to hack in, and breach my internal security protocols. I swallow hard. I know about computers again. And weapons technologies. And Space-flight technology... this is stupid! I'm just a girl! How many schoolgirls can there be in nineteen sixty three that can know all of this!

"Keep following, we'll take you to them. You'll enjoy working for our Dalek masters. They say so." I ignore the heavy-set, middle aged man. The younger one, blonde with clear blue eyes, touches my shoulder.

"Is it true? That you will lead them to a great victory?" I just keep walking. I know where they are leading me to. Well, what they are leading me to. I just don't know where the Transmat technology is. The one unit I was aware of was at the school, and I was people take it away yesterday. They tried to keep their identities secret, but I know that they are from something called Torchwood. The Torchwood Institute.

I want to stop walking, but I can't. I want to run away, but my legs are great big traitors... I want to cry, but they don't want me to. Where is this Transmat platform? I want this over with. Maybe I can get them to kill me. They are very good at that. I have to kill one or two of them first. Calculating now the the most efficient way to kill a standard Dalek. The data I have... it seems to be obsolete. Very obsolete. They were not joking about a big war... they've upgraded, and I have no data on the new design. The original Battle Computer I was attached to. It's what I'm accessing, and what is controlling me. They want me compliant. I don't know who, though. I should say what, really...

I feel myself becoming less and less human with each footstep. I feel the conflict inside of me, the human girl fighting against the cold tactical computer. And the girl is losing. The girl is dying.

Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right... each footstep taking me closer to my Dalek enslavers, and further away from Mama and Papa, and my friends, and my life. Somehow, I just know I'll never see them again.

I manage it. I manage to cry a single tear. I want to cry more, but the programming is too strong.

Of course... Ratcliffe's Building Yard. Not that he'll be there. I remember killing him, bolts of lightning shooting out of my hands, like an evil sorceress. Evil. Is that what I'll become?

I hope not. I really, really hope not.

I walk into the front gate, and through the yard. There. That green painted door. In there, and I'll be sitting in that chair, rigged up to that monstrous contraption-

A black Dalek. This isn't good... I think they are leaders of some kind. Although I don't know what leaderships structures there are now. I remember... there was a civil war, and I was being used by one side. I wasn't given full access to all needed information. It looks solid and rigid, the eyestalk's end glowing a bright blue. Three other Daleks, all bronze coloured, surround me. Four glowing blue eyes staring at me.

"You served the renegade faction as a part of their battle computer?" the Black Dalek asks. I just stand there, fear gripping me. My bottom lip quivers.

"YOU WILL ANSWER!" it shrieks at me. I take a step back, now truly scared. I nod, my voice deserting me.

"Your memories of your human existence will be purged from you, and a Dalek identity will be inserted in its place. You will be designated a name, and you will be slaved to a more advanced tactical computer system. You will be used to further our cause." I gulp, my body shaking from fear, despite the iron control they have on me. These don't seem like normal Daleks. Daleks don't care about identities or names. The last time, they worked on making me forget my name, I stare at the black one, scared, but also feeling like hitting it.

"Who are you?" I have to know. I just have to.

"I am Dalek Sec," the black Dalek says to me.