The planet was a sterile monument to mechanization. One city dominated the skyline; it's cold spires reaching into the dark sky. Inside the city, stainless steel corridors, empty of life, stretched for miles. Other than the city, the planet was a blasted wasteland, the result of thousands of years of war between its two dominant species. Once a lush, earth like world, now, other than the city, it harbored terrors that would blast the mind of a normal sentient being.
The race that had won the war now ran it's vast galactic empire from the planet, called Skaro. Greedy for conquest, the rulers, mutated beyond recognition, exiled to travel machines, were called Daleks. They were one of the deadliest races know to exist. Brilliant beyond comprehension, they were also avaricious and evil. They existed for one thing: conquest. For many years they had tried in vain to conquer the galaxy, their plans foiled by a being called the Doctor. He was their arch-nemesis, they his. Time after time, incarnation after incarnation, he had ruined their careful plans. Now, they were going to try a new idea. One that even he would not be able to interfere with.
Or so they hoped.