As Davros stepped outside, the initial warmth of the sun had become a grueling heat. Indeed, he had already begun to get irritated by it. The bright light was also hard to adjust his eye to. Though he was supposed to be in a hurry, neither he nor his escorts did any kind of hurrying. When his eye finally managed to adjust, he was able to take in the harsh reality of his situation.

All around him, he saw nothing but suffering. The city, which had obviously seen far better days, had fallen into disrepair and refugees crowded the streets. Had his new Empress not told him this was the capital, he would never have guessed it himself. He continued to look around, unable to take his eye away from the depressing sights. Many shops and homes had shattered and boarded-up windows with weeds growing through the stone bricks. The refugees had constructed flimsy wooden shacks everywhere.

As he passed by the crowds, the majority of them stared at Davros. He could see the crushing sadness and confusion in the eyes of every Changeling citizen. Some of them whispered, but for the most part, there was a deafening silence. One by one, they went back to whatever they were doing. A few smaller Changelings (Davros assumed these were children) kicked a rock around, doing their best to cope with their unfortunate circumstances. Their parents looked on with slight envy, wishing they could do the same. Adult and child alike were covered in grime and scratches. Many of them appeared malnourished and weak. Some wore shredded clothing, if it could even be called that.

As Davros and his escorts waded through the crowd, a filthy child ran up to Davros’ metallic skirt and stared up at him. An adult quickly pulled it away and gave Davros an apologetic look before disappearing into the crowd. He looked at his escorts. All of that black obsidian chain mail was absorbing the sunlight and overheating them. They were sweating far worse than anyling else. He had seen a great number of horrors in his young life, but things like this never got old. They always shook him to his core.

“Do you see?”

Davros heard an escort speak from behind him. He continued moving forward, but turned his dome slightly to indicate that he was listening.

“Do you see how we suffer? Do you see why we cannot fail?”

The escort spoke quietly, and Davros had to strain to hear him.

“The Equestrians delivered an ultimatum. None of us are to be spared. We live in squalor every waking moment, just hoping that Our Queen will lead us to salvation. It has become obvious that our invasion was a mistake. But we went too far. There are no more second chances. No amount of apologizing or reparations will save us from them now. We must now show our will to survive through blood and battle.”

Davros hung his eyestalk a bit as he continued forward.

“Do you know what it is like to watch everyone and everything you have ever loved die and crumble before your very eyes?”

A chill slithered up Davros’ metaphorical spine. He knew pain. He knew it very well.

“I was there when the first of our cities fell. I watched as my home burned with my family still inside. I couldn't do a thing. I was too weak. Now that damned memory tears at me with every beat of my broken heart.”

The escort’s words struck a chord within Davros. He felt a great deal of sympathy for this Changeling and his people, weather he liked it or not.

“We deserved to be driven out of Equestria. I understand that now, and I believe Our Queen does as well. She acted blindly out of revenge and pride. But we do not deserve this. No race deserves to be driven to the brink of extinction and wiped from the face of the world. See my brothers and sisters?”

Davros took another long look at the endless crowd of refugees before him. It was a lot to take in.

“I won’t let them go quietly. I won’t accept this injustice against them. You are one of us now. I can tell you know the brutal nature of war as well as I do. I hope Our Queen’s hope and trust in you is well-placed. If you can save us the way she believes you can, then I will defend you with my life, just as I would for every Changeling here.”

Davros felt a deep sense of confusion at hearing this. How one of these creatures could accept him so easily was astounding. A sense of pride for his new home stirred within him.

“Now you see. Now you see why we fight.”

Davros stopped and spun around to face this bold Changeling. The escort was taller than the others, his head reached up to Davros’ midsection. He seemed aged, but by no means was he old. His legs and chest were quite muscular, but a jagged scar led from the right side of his neck to halfway down his right foreleg. The Changeling escort’s left eye was pure white, a sharp contrast to the light blue of his other eye.

“WHAT IS YOUR DESIGNATION?” Davros inquired.

The escort had firmly locked his eyes with Davros’.

“I am called Soulweeper,” the escort responded.

Davros continued to look at the changeling escort. He then extended one of his appendages.

“I AM GLAD TO CALL YOU ‘BROTHER.’”

The escort remained silent for a moment before returning the grin and shaking Davros’ metallic hand with his hoof.

“We need to keep moving,” Soulweeper stated.

Davros nodded and the group quietly continued for the next two hours. The city was truly huge. When he had finally reached the colossal stone gates of the city, he looked back at the castle. Even from what seemed like four miles away, its huge dark spires menacingly twisted towards the sky. Once the gates had opened, Davros spotted a railroad station just outside. A train sat waiting with plumes of black smoke billowing out from its furnace.

“That will be taking us to Razrix Ridge. We best board as soon as possible,” Soulweeper muttered.
The group boarded the train without further ado and Davros stood in the corner with two escorts on each side of him. The escorts were thankful at how much cooler it was in the car than it was outside. Only a few other Changelings were in the same car as them, and they all wore a different kind of armor. It looked like plate armor, though made of a shiny plastic. Not only that, but the armor seemed embedded into their skin. Davros figured they were new recruits being shipped to the front. The train gave a loud whistle and slowly accelerated.

After a few minutes, they were chugging along quite fast and were passing through some barren farm fields on the outskirts of the capital. Though the fields were fairly large, only a few sparse areas had any crops, and even those were brown and decaying. A few Changeling farmers were attempting to harvest what they could, but it was futile. Davros even witnessed one particularly bony farmer collapse in a field as others rushed to his aid.

“Our primary source of food, our livestock, has all but run out due to lack of trade with our other now-conquered cities. As if that weren't bad enough, it appears as though even nature itself fights to end us by yielding withered grains. This is the worst famine I have ever seen in my life.”

Davros was intrigued at how Soulweeper seemed to know what he was thinking. It really did feel like the Changeling was close enough to be a brother. As the train now hurtled full speed along the tracks, the scorching sun began to set.

“It will be a few more hours until we reach the outpost at Razrix Ridge. There is no point in showing up exhausted. We should all get some sleep,” Soulweeper advised.

The escorts all leaned back and slowly dozed off. Davros glanced around the car. The fresh recruits had also fallen asleep. With nothing else to do but pass time, Davros stared out into space, and let his mind ease into this thoughts of victory.

======

“Five minutes to the station! Five minutes to the station!”

Davros opened his eye and blinked a few times. It was very early in the morning; the sun had barely peeked over the rolling hills. He glanced around the car and saw that only a few other groggy passengers had awakened. A few woke up at hearing the shout, but soon grumbled and fell back to sleep. To his right, Davros saw that Soulweeper had awakened and was staring intently out of the window in front of him. Davros followed his gaze and saw a small railroad station in the distance surrounded by what appeared to be hundreds of tents and short wooden towers.

“The Razrix Ridge outpost,” Soulweeper said quietly, so as not to disturb the remaining sleeping passengers.

Davros studied the outpost as it grew closer, and he turned to ask Soulweeper a question.

“WHY IS THIS LOCATION CALLED RAZRIX RIDGE?”

Soulweeper continued to stare ahead while he responded.

“A long ridge made of some jet black mineral runs through the plains here. This is the only location we've ever seen the mineral and our scientists never got around to fully researching it. We do know, however, that it is practically unbreakable. None of our tools or other methods can even put a scratch in it.”

Davros found this interesting, but before he could ponder on it further, the train screeched to a stop, flinging one sleeping recruit across the car and into the door. He stood up, grumbling, and was met by the annoyed conductor in the now-open doorway.

“We've arrived at the outpost. All may now disembark,” the greasy Changeling announced.

Davros and his escorts followed the recruits out of the train and stepped down onto the moist grass. All around Davros, soldiers were bustling about, carrying equipment and marching in odd, loose formations while officers barked orders. He couldn't help but notice the officers didn't seem to know what they were doing and shouted orders without much confidence.

Soulweeper nudged Davros and the group began moving towards a large, dark blue tent in the center of the camp. Short wooden watchtowers dotted the perimeter of the outpost and Davros could see Changelings in them looking through telescopes on tripods. Scouts? It would make sense. He directed his attention to the environment itself. The ground in the outpost seemed muddy with a few patches of dying grass here and there. But beyond the outpost, he could see a vast, open plain glistening with dew. Soulweeper was right; a black ridge ran through the plain.

Turning his eye to the sky, Davros saw it was becoming cloudy. It was already quite humid and didn’t seem like it could get much wetter. Finally the group entered the main tent. The interior was lit with lanterns that appeared to contain yellow crystal shards. Along the edges of the tent were desks covered in paperwork. Changelings wearing light brown vests made of cloth were shuffling through the papers and passing them around the room as they chattered. Near the back of the tent, a tall, young Changeling sat behind what appeared to be a desk made of bricks. As Davros’ group approached him, he looked up and took a good long stare at Davros.

The Changeling behind the desk held a worried look in his eyes.

“I assume you are the aid my messengers informed me of?” he said.

Davros stepped forward.

“INDEED I AM. I PRESUME YOU ARE THE COMMANDER IN CHARGE OF THIS OUTPOST?”

The Changeling nodded, stood and looked Davros up and down, trying to understand what was in front of him before answering.

“Though I am skeptical…it is not my place to question Our Queen. I am essentially out of options at this point, anyway. We failed our invasion because of our lack of organization, and now I fear we will all be slain for that same reason. The previous commanding officer was killed in action. He had far more experience than I do. This is just…too much. But I have been told that you yourself are…or were…an officer for your homeland?”

Davros stared down at the commander and replied, “THIS IS MY NEW HOMELAND, COMMANDER.”

The Changeling frowned slightly, “So it is…so it is…I have orders stating that you are to be my adviser as well as an officer here.”

Soulweeper spoke up, “I believe our job here is done. We shall take our leave.”

The Changeling commander held up a hoof.

“No, you will not. I received another message regarding you four Imperial Guards.”

Davros had only heard them referred to as “escorts” until now. These Imperial Guards must be the elite of the elite, he thought.

“You are to join us in this battle. We need all the help we can get, and you lads are the best, or so I've heard,” the commander went on.

Soulweeper nodded. He would gladly do his part.

“And you…Davros, is it?” the commander asked the dalek. “I’m sure you saw the travesty outside. Frankly, I’m open to any advice you may have. I’m all ears.”

Davros looked down at the desk. Maps and reports were strewn about. He picked up a few of the papers to see how things were being run. It shocked him how poorly this military was being “organized.” The troop formations were in preposterous shapes, and it was obvious the commander didn't know the definition of flanking. Even the unit hierarchy was jumbled up. It took everything in his power to not slam the reports down on the desk and exterminate the commander right then and there. Time was flying, and he needed a plan.

“COMMANDER, THIS IS TRULY THE WORK OF INCOMPETENCE. I HONESTLY CAN’T COMPREHEND HOW YOU MANAGED TO THROW TOGETHER AN INVASION WHEN YOUR MAIN TACTIC CONSISTS OF SIMPLY CHARGING FORWARD AND HOPING FOR THE BEST!”

The commander leaned back, shocked and insulted at Davros’ bold complaints.

“Oh? Well tell me, then, how were things run in your old home? Hm?”

Davros knew it would take far too long to implement his old nation’s style of warfare. He had to adapt and use something basic. Perhaps the style of an ancient empire…?

“COMMANDER, AS OF NOW I WILL BE TAKING CHARGE. I WILL SEIZE VICTORY, I SWEAR IT!”

The commander was still stunned at how bold this alien was. He almost rejected the request out of stubborn pride, but decided against it. He knew what was at stake and he knew the coming battle would result in defeat under his command.

“Very well, Davros. I will gather the troops in the mustering area. Be there in there in ten minutes. I hope you are right.”

Davros scribbled notes from his memory over the next ten minutes before heading to the large open area at the north end of the outpost. He remembered the style of warfare of an ancient empire that his had defeated from hacking into the asylums data-banks. He couldn't remember the name of the empire, but many of its terms stuck with him.

He stood on a raised wooden platform in front of a crowd of about two thousand Changeling soldiers. All of them wore the same armor as the recruits on the train. To Davros’ left stood the commander, and on his right were the Imperial Guards. As Davros stepped forward to speak, the bustling mass of black froze and went completely silent. It was eerie to see all of those eyes staring at him. Davros increased the volume on his vocal synthesizer in order to be heard. He knew exactly how to go about with this.

“ALL OF YOU, FORM SEPARATE LINES OF TEN SOLDIERS EACH. ALL OFFICERS WILL STEP OFF TO THE SIDE FOR THE TIME BEING.”

Davros watched as his initial command took action. It was not hard for them to form groups of ten relatively quickly. The officers also obeyed and stood separated from the rows of troops.

“NOW, I WANT ONE DRONE TO EACH LINE OF TEN!”

The crowd mumbled to themselves in confusion.

“I am not familiar with that term, Davros,” the commander informed him.

Davros looked around in frustration. Of course, they were clearly a mess. Why would they have separate kinds of officers?

“LET ME TRY THAT AGAIN,” Davros tried to adjust his plan, “ONE OFFICER WITH THREE YEARS OF EXPERIENCE OR LESS TO EACH LINE,” he finished.

The officers understood this and soon each line now consisted of eleven troops each.

“NOW THEN, THESE GROUPS OF ELEVEN WILL BE REFERRED TO AS ALTUR! EACH ALTUR OFFICER WILL BE REFERRED TO AS AN ALTA!”

The crowd mumbled in agreement. Though this was new to them, it felt sensible.

“NEXT, I WANT THE ALTA TO GATHER IN GROUPS OF TEN WITH YOUR ALTURS!”

The crowd shifted, and soon there were large square formations consisting of 110 soldiers each.

“EACH GROUP OF 110 WILL BE COMMANDED BY AN OFFICER WITH FOUR TO SIX YEARS OF EXPERIENCE!”

Nearly all remaining officers to the side faded into the square formations. Only two officers remained.

“THESE GROUPS OF 111 WILL BE REFERRED TO AS A SENTURY! THE OFFICER HOLDS THE RANK OF SENTURION AND WILL GIVE ORDERS TO THE ALTA AS HE SEES FIT! NEXT, SENTURIONS WILL FORM GROUPS OF TEN WITH THEIR SENTURIES!”

The commander next to Davros was gawking now as the huge black squares moved in sync. Davros had the feeling of pride seeing this out of the corner of his eye. The squares had almost merged; they now formed two enormous squares made up of about a thousand each.

“OFFICERS WITH MORE THAN SIX YEARS OF EXPERIENCE WILL BE PLACED IN COMMAND OF 1111 SOLDIERS! THESE OFFICERS BEAR THE TITLE OF MILLENNION AND EACH GROUP IS TO BE REFERRED TO AS A MILLENNIUM!”

The last two officers stood proudly in front of their troops.

“YOU WILL NOW BE GIVEN VARIOUS DESIGNATIONS SO THAT EACH SOLDIER WILL KNOW WHAT GROUP THEY BELONG TO AND KNOW WHO THEIR OFFICERS ARE!”

Davros elevated down from the platform and explained this to the pair of Millennii. They walked along the sides of the huge squares explaining what Davros meant to each Centurion, and each Centurion in turn explained it to the Alturs and so on. As a test, Davros pulled a random soldier out of the crowd and onto the platform. He asked the soldier to state what group he belonged to in descending order.

“Um…” the small Changeling began, “Second Millennium, Sixth Sentury, Third Altur.”

The crowd roared with excitement at how well the system worked. Soulweeper grinned at Davros, impressed yet not very surprised. He had a feeling this dalek would do great things.

Davros saw the Changeling give a proud grin and he dismissed him back to his ranks. The commander no longer showed worry in his eyes and stood proudly with his chest out. The sky had grown darker and the clouds nearly blocked out all sunlight. It began to drizzle.

“Memorize your group designations and return to your tents! That is all!” the commander spoke into a paper cone and the crowd dispersed into the outpost.

“I am beyond impressed, Davros,” the commander said as he, Davros, and the Imperial Guards returned to the main tent’s interior.

“Never before have I seen such a strange, yet incredible style. I will send a report of this to the Queen at once. She will use it to organize the rest of the military in this fashion.”

“GOOD, I SUGGEST YOU GET SOME SLEEP, THE SUN IS GOING DOWN. HOPEFULLY THIS WEATHER WILL EASE UP BY MORNING.”

He and the four Imperial Guards exited the main tent and set up their own one nearby. Though the ground was becoming increasingly muddy as the rain fell more heavily, they had found some cots and managed to stay dry while they slept. Davros wasn't getting much sleep, however. The was mentally making battle strategies and pandering about what the future may hold. The clock was ticking, and soon Davros’ actions would result in the preservation or downfall of an empire...

Déjà vu…

Author's Note

Who gave the dalek power...I DID DEAL WITH IT.