Heather sat up on her cot. The daughter of the Doctor was a prisoner to the Daleks, and had been for the last 40 years. She looked around the tiny concrete cell and sighed. Every day brought new dangers, even though she was kept in the chamber every waking moment. Every day she wondered if they’d destroyed her TARDIS . She stared at the catflap that her meals came through. I’m their toy, she thought. They keep me alive to play with me. She started to talk out loud. “I thought that by my 400th birthday, I’d be out of here.” She kicked the door and an alarm went off. She loved to do that. The cameras came online. She smiled their way and sat back on the cot as her breakfast came through.