SPACEWALK | Doctor Who

𝐄VOLUTION OF THE DALEKS | 3

P A R T T H R E E

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"The lift's coming up." Martha nervously announced, a metal pole clutched tightly in her hands, wide eyes looking at the position indicator above the lift's door.

Logan was stood right next to her, holding a spanner he found on the floor, feeling surprisingly okay despite his outward appearance, which was closely reminiscent of some sort of skittish rodent. It's not like he was relaxed—very far from it—but he wasn't shitting bricks, so he took that as a win.

"You never know, it could just be Madonna or something." Logan muttered before cringing at his own words, quickly realising that he was definitely not good under pressure and was actually pissing himself off.

"Please, you wish." Martha retorted with a raised eyebrow, repressing an amused grin when Logan just blankly looked at her.

"I should have brought that gun." Frank shook his head in dismay, armed only with a mallet that was, to be fair, the size of Frank's head.

"Tallulah, stay back. You too, Martha. If they send pig slaves, they're trained to kill." Laszlo warned, only to be immediately shut down by Martha, who looked at Laszlo like he was crazy.

"The Doctor needs me to fight. I'm not going anywhere!"

"They're savages. I should know. They're trained to slit your throat with their bare teeth." Laszlo tried once more, keeping Martha behind him, only to weakly tumble to the floor when he tried to lift his hammer.

"Are you alright, mate?" Logan asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern as Tallulah knelt down beside him, wondering if this was something to be genuinely worried about or if he just forgot to mention that he had anaemia.

"Laszlo? What is it?"

"No, it's nothing. I'm fine. Just leave me." Laszlo waved her off, only to end up sat on the floor and propped up against a wall.

Tallulah felt his forehead with the back of her hand and frowned. "Oh, honey, you're burning up. What's wrong with you? Tell me." She pleaded.

"Great. One man down, we ain't even started yet." Frank muttered, shifting on his feet with his eyes glued to the lift's position indicator, just watching the floor number steadily rise.

"It's not looking good, Frank." Martha nervously pointed out.

"Nope."

"We're going to get slaughtered." She added.

"Martha, what the fuck." Logan huffed, the grip on his spanner tightening before he realised that he was holding a literal spanner. How am I supposed to fight pigmen with a spanner.

A loud crack of lightning broke Logan from his thoughts on spanner-self-defence and brought his attention to the city outside the building.

"Wait a minute. Lightening." Martha suddenly said, running to the open area.

"What about it?" Logan frowned, looking from Martha to Frank, then back to Martha before he finally walked over to see what she was doing, quickly realising her thoughts. A mildly startled noise of protest passed Logan's lips when Martha suddenly shoved a metal pole into his free hand. "Um."

Hearing muffled laughing, Logan turned to Frank and saw that the young man was watching, a hand over his mouth to suppress his amusement, causing Logan to raise his eyebrows in mock offence. "Oi, stop laughing and help us."

"Yessir." Frank easily obeyed with a quiet snicker.

"Aw, you'll be all right, sweetheart. Don't you worry." Tallulah sweetly cooed from where she was knelt on the floor beside Laszlo, soothingly petting his hair. She heard the commotion from behind her and looked over her shoulder. "What the hell are you three clowns doing?"