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fic: Crossover: Galactica/Doctor Who (oldskool, baby)
And now, for something completely different: Davros meets the Cylons.
250+ words.
Six is standing in a room, talking to a man in a chair. Her diction is flawless, her tone calm. "Logic: all elephants are pink. Nelly is an elephant. Therefore, Nelly is pink."
"That's ridiculous, elephants aren't pink!"
She laughs, the sound rich and full and leans forward. And even Davros, scarred as he is, has to admire the perfection of her skin. "Are you so sure?"
"Completely." He tries to make an impatient gesture, but the nerve-endings to his arm were cut off at some point, and it fails. He misses being able to pound his fist and instead gasps harshly, "Your logic is flawed, your species is flawed. You are attempting to be closer to humanity! You will--"
"Now, now," she shakes a finger at him, smiling, "Don't get over-extend yourself Davros." She leans forwards even more, lips near to his ear and whispers, "After all, your Daleks failed."
"They will rise up! They will return! They will--"
The gunshot rings loud in Six's ears, and she turns to glare. "Was that necessary."
"He was boring," says Boomer, re-holstering her pistol. "Now, can we stop wasting our time? There are things to do."
"I suppose you're right. Where's Doral?"
"He wanted to play with the pepperpots."
"Ah." Six smiles and glides across the room to Boomer, stroking a hand over her cheek. "So beautiful."
"Whatever. Let's go."
The room empties of the Cylon presence leaving behind a broken emperor, the last of the Kaleds, the creator and exterminator of the Daleks. His broken human shell will rot for eternity.
250+ words.
Six is standing in a room, talking to a man in a chair. Her diction is flawless, her tone calm. "Logic: all elephants are pink. Nelly is an elephant. Therefore, Nelly is pink."
"That's ridiculous, elephants aren't pink!"
She laughs, the sound rich and full and leans forward. And even Davros, scarred as he is, has to admire the perfection of her skin. "Are you so sure?"
"Completely." He tries to make an impatient gesture, but the nerve-endings to his arm were cut off at some point, and it fails. He misses being able to pound his fist and instead gasps harshly, "Your logic is flawed, your species is flawed. You are attempting to be closer to humanity! You will--"
"Now, now," she shakes a finger at him, smiling, "Don't get over-extend yourself Davros." She leans forwards even more, lips near to his ear and whispers, "After all, your Daleks failed."
"They will rise up! They will return! They will--"
The gunshot rings loud in Six's ears, and she turns to glare. "Was that necessary."
"He was boring," says Boomer, re-holstering her pistol. "Now, can we stop wasting our time? There are things to do."
"I suppose you're right. Where's Doral?"
"He wanted to play with the pepperpots."
"Ah." Six smiles and glides across the room to Boomer, stroking a hand over her cheek. "So beautiful."
"Whatever. Let's go."
The room empties of the Cylon presence leaving behind a broken emperor, the last of the Kaleds, the creator and exterminator of the Daleks. His broken human shell will rot for eternity.
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Probably not, since it spends less time on screen, and it isn't being dragged out pointlessly.
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