Warhead of the Daleks 1 (a)

(ROLL OPENING CREDITS)
(WARHEAD OF THE DALEKS)
(PART ONE)

1. EXT. WAREHOUSE DISTRICT (DAY)

The grey overcast sky can be made out through the crisscrossing rusty catwalks linking tall, imposing brick warehouses. It is early morning and drizzle has made puddles. A TRAMP is sitting in a doorway, lighting the first cigarette of the day. He freezes as he hears footsteps, echoing.

Two POLICEMEN are walking down the street, still some distance away. They are traditional bobbies, dressed for the weather and seem to be casually strolling through the area. They might even be chatting about something... but they are not speaking. At all. The Tramp’s alcove allows him to spot them before they can see him. He moves back, unnerved.

Suddenly, there is a loud crashing noise. The tramp and the policemen immediately turn their attention to the source of the noise – a set of heavy warehouse doors are crashing open. Five BUILDERS scramble out. Dressed in dusty denim suits and hard hats, they are all terrified. One runs off, moaning with fear. One calls after him.

BUILDER 1
Jerry!

BUILDER 2
Come on, let’s get out of here!

BUILDER 1
No, wait!

He starts to close the doors. The others turn and lend their aide to closing them. The policemen approach, looking curious. The doors are almost closed... then they start to open. The builders throw all their weight against the doors, but can’t close them.

BUILDER 2
Run for it!

They turn and for the first time register the policemen behind them. The leader brightens immediately and steps forward... and the policemen raise stubby, automatic machine guns fitted with silences. The leader’s face falls.

BUILDER 1
You can’t...

The closer policeman fires. There is a soft thud and the builder drops dead. The others scatter. Calmly and quickly, both policemen fire on the crowd. Three shots later the other builders’ bodies are sprawled on the floor. The second policeman trains his weapon on the fifth builder who is still running. The policeman fires. A moment later, the fleeing builder drops dead to the ground.

The tramp stares at this display in mute shock. The policemen are right in front of him now, but are turned away and appear not to know he is there. Suddenly, they turn in unison. The tramp swallows and opens his mouth to speak. One of the policeman fires a single shot. The tramp slumps back, dead.

The doors to the warehouse finally burst open. A tall, gaunt man dressed as a senior police officer – he wears a blue coat and a peaked cap. This is GUSTAVE LYTTON. He is alone in the warehouse. He looks around, expressionless. The drizzle is forming puddles around the bodies. He looks up at the policemen. They look back.

Lytton steps out into the street, letting the doors swing closed behind him and takes a handheld yellow remote from his pocket. With a gloved thumb he adjusts a slide control. The six dead bodies are bathed in a ruby red glow. They fade from sight, leaving the red glow a silhouette. Those fade, leaving no trace of the massacre.

Lytton looks around the street. He and the policemen are the only ones there. He adjusts the control in his hand to full. This time, Lytton glows ruby red and fades away. The red glow disperses. Unsurprised, the policemen turn and wander off, on the beat and continuing their silent conversation.

2. INT. TIME CORRIDOR TERMINAL (NIGHT)

A room completely white, so it appears to be a void. The white void turns pink, then red, then suddenly Lytton and the corpses appear. The bodies of the five builders and the tramp are lying in the same pattern they fell, but close together. Lytton stands over them, like a triumphant warrior. Annoyed, he takes off his hat as glow vanishes and a segment of wall slides up. Lytton strides over to it.

3. INT. RECEPTION AREA (NIGHT)

A circular chamber marked in white, grey and black. There are corridors leading off in four directions. The doorways are low, meaning people have to stoop slightly to move through it. Six TROOPERS enter. They wear bronze armor that seems almost fused to their bodies, their faces unremittingly hard and mean. They move across the area to the far wall where the panel is rising to reveal the terminal room beyond. Lytton ducks through as the door continues to rise, thoroughly annoyed. One of them, GROGAN, steps forward, calm and emotionless.

GROGAN
Were you successful?

LYTTON
It was a shambles.

Lytton throws the hat at Grogan and starts to remove his coat.

GROGAN
They were prevented from contacting the authorities.

LYTTON
They managed to get out of the warehouse.

GROGAN
The escape was prevented.

LYTTON
It should never have happened.

He hands Grogan his coat. Grogan folds it expertly without looking. The troopers enter the terminal and are dragging the bodies out.

LYTTON
And who ordered the use of machine pistols?

GROGAN
Standing orders. Nothing anachronistic is to be taken to Earth.

LYTTON
So instead we have just slaughtered six valuable specimens.

GROGAN
Standing orders. Nothing anachronistic is to be taken to Earth.

LYTTON
It is an unacceptable stricture. Next time, stun lasers are to be used.

Lytton strides down one of the corridors, unbuttoning his jacket as he goes.

LYTTON
Now that has been dealt with, prepare the ship for travel. The attack will be carried out at once. Start the checklist and prepare for battle.

GROGAN
Commander.

Lytton calls over his shoulder.

LYTTON
And check the orientation circuits on the time corridor. There’s some kind of interference in the system, something must be caught in it.

GROGAN
That is not possible.

LYTTON
Check it anyway. We cannot afford any mistakes!

4. INT. TARDIS CONTROL ROOM (DAY)

TEGAN and TURLOUGH are present, standing around the console. The low whining of the TARDIS systems is strained. Suddenly, the internal door opens and THE DOCTOR strides inside, crossing to the console and talking all the time.

DOCTOR
Now, listen you two. If the Time Lords ever hear about our little trip to Frontios, there will be serious trouble...

There is a loud groaning noise from the engines. Frowning, the Doctor puts his hear to the console. He bangs his fist against the console. The noise continues.

TURLOUGH
What would have happened if we HADN’T been there, Doctor?

TEGAN
Well, the TARDIS engines would be working properly, for one thing.

DOCTOR
Oh, there’s nothing wrong with them.

TEGAN
Then why are they making that funny noise?

TURLOUGH
We’re going far too fast, Doctor.

The noise gets louder. The Doctor moves around the console. The noise gets worse. Turlough is forced to shout over the noise.

TURLOUGH
Stop the engines!

DOCTOR
No, no, leave them! This will pass shortly, they’re all right...

The noise changes to a clanking, violent jolt. All three are flung against the console and grip it as the room shakes violently around. The groaning noise is louder and even more strained than before. The Doctor finally looks anxious.

TURLOUGH
What’s happening?

TEGAN
The Gravis?

DOCTOR
Oh, no, this is something much more powerful... we’re being pulled into a time/space induction tunnel, a sort of corridor. Trying to pull against it... Course corrections...

The Doctor punches some controls. The room shakes even more.

TEGAN
A time corridor?

DOCTOR
If you like.

TEGAN
To where?

DOCTOR
I don’t know – but I think we’re about to find out...

There is another, violent lurch.

5. MODEL SHOT

We focus on a space station hanging in the void. A square, metallic framework holding linked cuboid units. Etched on the scaffolding is CASSIUS IV. A large, rectangular space craft is accelerating away from it.

6. INT. CASSIUS FOUR CORRIDORS (NIGHT)

An outer corridor of the station. It is lit randomly – several light fittings are broken or flickering, and the floor is littered with junk. Staring out a grubby observation port is a young, prim black man called MERCER, wearing a neat, brand new uniform. Beside him is a similarly neat woman, STYLES. She is attractive, in her early forties and wears a white head band to stop her blonde hair falling her eyes. She is stern and tired. They both fit badly into their decayed surroundings.

STYLES
You haven’t seen a freighter leave before?

MERCER
I’m beginning to wish I was still on it.

STYLES
I’ve had that feeling for the last three years.

She turns and strides off.

STYLES
If you want the tour, Lieutenant, you better keep up.

Mercer tears his eyes from the port and hurries after her. He trips on a couple of bits of rubbish that have been there so long Styles steps over it without even noticing it. She doesn’t look back at him as they talk.

MERCER
Please, call me Roylan, Miss...?

STYLES
DOCTOR Styles. Don’t you pay attention? Some security officer you are.

MERCER
It is only my first day.

STYLES
Then it’s all down hill from here.

They turn a corner. Mercer stops and stares – a chunk of wall has rusted away and the cables beneath are held together with straps. They spark occasionally. More dangle over the corridor. Styles moves around them.

MERCER
When’s that going to be repaired?

Styles spares it a glance.

STYLES
When it totally breaks down.

MERCER
How long has it been in this state?

STYLES
It’s been like that since before I arrived.

MERCER
That’s three years ago... How long since the maintenance teams did their work?

STYLES
Since regular inspections ceased.

Styles keeps walking. Mercer follows her, flinching slightly as there is a mild explosion of sparks. They turn around another corner. This area is slightly cleaner.

MERCER
This station is falling apart!

STYLES
You’re seeing it on a good day.

Styles stops by a blank section of wall and punches – literally – a control next to it.

MERCER
This is a death trap!

STYLES
If you wanted to see everything spin and span, you shouldn’t have asked for a transfer to a prison station, should you?

MERCER
I didn’t volunteer for this place. The Prison Station Control Authority is where I asked to be transferred to. On Earth!

STYLES
Well, we’re about as far from Earth as you can get and stay inside the star system. That’s why they don’t bother to check on efficiency. We’re too close to be shunted over to Leonis System authority and too far out to bother keeping an eye on.

She punches the control again, angrily.

MERCER
But if there’s an attack...

STYLES
Attack? No chance. We were put out this far for a reason. Some of the crew have lived here for decades. The closest we got to anything life threatening was when the viston seeds turned toxic.

She punches the control, then kicks the wall angrily.

STYLES
Come on, COME ON!!

There is a loud whine and the wall jerks upwards.

7. INT. STYLES’ LABORATORY (NIGHT)

A long thin chamber, bright, white, clean and tidy. There is a work bench with neat equipment. Another woman, ZENA, is present. A teenager, dressed similarly to Styles with even the headband, is working on a microscope. Styles and Mercer enter, the wall sliding closed afterwards. Mercer looks around.

MERCER
Is this part of the station?

STYLES
Of course it is Lieutenant. Pay attention.

MERCER
It’s so clean... Why is the rest of the station such a wreck?

STYLES
Because this is my territory and I have standards.

MERCER
Standards? Obsession, more like...

STYLES
Spend the best part of your life here and you’ll understand. Zena?

Styles crosses over to her.

ZENA
Yes, Korin?

STYLES
You finished with those slides?

ZENA
Just about.

Mercer follows, still looking around, impressed.

MERCER
How do you cope with that mess outside?

STYLES
By ignoring it.

MERCER
Don’t you care?

STYLES
Not particularly. I am only concerned for the medical welfare of the crew and the prisoner on this station, not the station itself.

Mercer glares at her, finally getting irritated.

MERCER
Does everyone around here have such a narrow view of their responsibilities?

STYLES
It’s the only way to stay sane. This is, Zena, by the way.

Zena turns and holds out a hand, smiling shyly.

ZENA
Hello.

STYLES
Oh yes, Zena. This is... what’s your name again?

MERCER
Roylan Mercer. Lieutenant Roylan Mercer. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Zena.

Zena giggles.

ZENA
Likewise.

STYLES
Don’t get too attached, Zena – he’s the new security officer.

Zena’s cheer dwindles visibly.

ZENA
Oh. Well, er, it’s nice to meet you anyway.

MERCER
Why? Is security unpopular around here?

STYLES
Security is nonexistent around here. Take the rules seriously and most of the crew deserve harsher sentences than the prisoner.

She laughs humorlessly.

STYLES
Maybe THAT is why we’ve all got stuck out here. Divine retribution.

Mercer pauses, noticing a hatch in the far wall.

MERCER
Is that an escape capsule?

STYLES
One of them.

MERCER
You just happen to have an escape craft at the back of your laboratory.

STYLES
You said yourself – this place is a death trap. At least I know I’ve got a way out.

MERCER
And what about the rest of the crew?!

STYLES
If the Captain doesn’t care, why should I?

MERCER
Why? You’re a doctor, of course you should care!

STYLES
Oh, shut up, will you, Mercer. You’ve only been here a few hours. You know NOTHING!

Zena moves forward, placating.

ZENA
Korin, let it go.

STYLES
Oh, get back to work, Zena.

MERCER
Yes, that will improve morale no end. Is everyone despairing like you are?

Styles sighs and rubs her eyes.

STYLES
Look, Lieutenant. My tour of duty on this station ends in eight weeks time. If I want it to end with a promotion, I need the Captain to give me a good report.

MERCER
I see...

STYLES
No, I don’t think that if you do. If Captain Doran does NOT give me a good report, I could be stuck on Cassius Four for at LEAST another two years!

MERCER
He’s blackmailing you?

STYLES
Indirectly. He’s blackmailing us all.

Mercer looks at Styles, realizing how miserable she is.

MERCER
Look, Doctor Styles, the Prison Station Control Authority is supposed to stop these sort of industrial situations from happening. It’s part of their charter that they drew up...

STYLES
No one cares about the rules if it will cost money.

MERCER
If we let Control know just what’s going on, they’d have to do something about it or lose credibility! The first thing they’d do is replace Doran as Captain, wouldn’t they?

Zena looks hopeful.

ZENA
You really think it could work?

MERCER
He’d be instantly relieved of command. Just knowing the level of morale here would be enough to do that.

Styles shakes her head.

STYLES
It’s been tried before, Mercer.

ZENA
And failed.

STYLES
And it is usually by inexperienced new boys like you.

MERCER
This time it will be different, Doctor Styles.

STYLES
How? You can’t contact Earth without getting the Captain’s direct permission. He’s hardly going to let you stab him in the back – and when he finds out what you’re up to... The way you’re carrying on, you’ll finish up just like the others.

Mercer frowns.

MERCER
Meaning?

ZENA
You’re the third security officer we’ve had in two years, Lieutenant.

MERCER
What happened to the others, were they dismissed?

Zena swallows.

ZENA
No. They’re dead.

A look of anxiety crosses Mercer’s face, then it becomes cold reserve.

MERCER
Like I said. This time, it’ll be different.


8. INT. TARDIS CONTROL ROOM (NIGHT)

The room is still jolting violently. The trio cling to the console for dear life.

TURLOUGH
There must be some way to get free!

DOCTOR
We’re not fully inside it, we’re caught on the edge...

TEGAN
Isn’t there anything you can do? Materialize?

TURLOUGH
Half in and half out of the time corridor? We’ll be ripped apart!

The Doctor hauls himself around the console. He reaches out to touch a red button, eyes fixed on the scrolling information on the monitor.

DOCTOR
The turbulence must stabilize soon, and when the time stress on the TARDIS fluctuates the right way we can break free. The readings are starting to converge at optimum, and if we pick the right moment...

TEGAN
I feel sick. It’s like being stuck in the middle of the Harbor during a storm... Can I get to my room?

DOCTOR
Too late, Tegan – hold on!

He flips the switch. The room dips at an angle of forty-five degrees. Turlough manages to grab Tegan by the waist, stopping her from flying across the room. The room and its contents ripple and distort violently, distorting their voices.

DOCTOR
Hold on... hold on...

TEGAN
Doctor... I can’t take... much more...

There is another lurch and the room steadies out, the ripples clearing as Turlough is flung across the room and strikes a pillar. He slides to the floor, unconscious. The Doctor and Tegan still cling to the console. The engine noises are fading.

DOCTOR
There! We’re free of the corridor, but we’ve still travelling parallel to it.

Tegan lifts her head, looking unwell. The Doctor looks at her in concern.

TEGAN
Is it over?

DOCTOR
For the moment. Are you all right?

TEGAN
I think so.

The Doctor brightens immediately and pats her on the back.

DOCTOR
Good! You can check on Turlough.

The Doctor moves around the console as Tegan crosses to Turlough. She checks him over but he’s out for the count. The Doctor checks the displays, not noticing.

DOCTOR
We’re weaving in time... Still we’re well back inside the Gallifreyan noosphere. That’s something. We just have to follow the corridor until it terminates and from there we can pick out next destination... Once I’ve had a word with whoever’s responsible.

Tegan touches the back of Turlough’s head. Her fingers are red with blood.

TEGAN
Doctor!

The Doctor looks up, realizing the seriousness in her tone. He crosses to her as the lights on the console flash and the familiar sounds of materialization fill the air.

9. EXT. DOCKLANDS (DAY)

It is now afternoon, not too far from the industrial area. On one of the empty wharves, at the end of the street leading up between the disused warehouses, the TARDIS materializes. Once it finishes there is silence. There is no sign of anyone or even traffic. At the end of the street, however, appear the two policemen.

to be continued...