Once upon a time, on a planet drifting solely on its own, in its own, very well balanced orbit, a family of three lived and maintained peaceful lives. Being cut off from the rest of the universe was hard, and was never something considered by the rulers of their world.
'Picking up from where I left off,' remarked an aging, worn out alien, with long, overgrown hair, his long, wrinkly face glowing in the eyes of his son.
The young child, Octavian, sat upright on his bed under the enclave within the cave they called home. His father, Montrose, was reading him a goodnight story, one he hoped would send his son to sleep.
Montrose enjoyed thrilling his young Vogan son. In the old days, when Octavian was just a baby in arms, Montrose would sing to him. At times, that was when he was most silent, somehow aware of how his father didn't really have to try.
Now, at six years old, Octavian was, like his younger self, still very much enthralled by what not only his father, but family had to offer him.
Whilst telling the tale of how Montrose's forefathers fought off an invasion by the deadly Cybermen, deep in the mind of the storyteller burned an evil truth, one of which Montrose had kept from his family well.
As he recalled the night he heard gunfire and cries for help, he looked upon his son, sat in his bed opposite him, as if he saw himself almost in his son's position. He saw through his son's physical expressions how vulnerable he was, at the age when he first stumbled upon the lone Cyberman stalking the caves of their planet Voga. He had remembered how frightened he had been, at Octavian's age, to have come across such a monster.
'Father,' said Octavian, yanking his father's clothes, trying to raise his attention.
Montrose shook his head, snapping out of his crazy mood. He looked upon his son, his eyes fresh, and his mannerisms odd.
'You were saying…' added Octavian, a little hesitant, his father seeming a little tired, or perhaps such memories evoked mental stress, pain, and strange emotions.
'Oh was I? Then I conclude, and wish you a goodnight,' he replied, a little lost in his own story.
'The end?' pondered Octavian.
He watched as his father left his bedside, tripping over small rocks as he kicked up gold dust, stumbling past cave rocks that resembled cones in shape, but claws also.
Something was wrong with Montrose. Up until now, he was able to hide the fear behind his eyes, keep his secret to himself, but his son had caught on his drift.
It had only been a mere month, and yet he had been able to keep it from his wife, as well as those he served in the 'Established Order', a reminder of those who defeated the imposing Cyber threat, centuries ago.
His son snuggled under the gold sheets, allowing his mind to wander, to seek out possibilities. Being only six, Octavian was clever. Again, that was something that was inherent in his father's nature.
Embracing that fact, Octavian wanted to work out what it was his father was hiding from him, and expose the secret to his mother, and the 'supposedly top secret' organisation he had worked for. In his way of thinking, was how a family should best operate, by never keeping secrets. His father had taught him that.
Nine hours had passed, and Octavian was eating his morning meal, with his mother and father. They were seated at a grand table, in thrown-like seats. Octavian watched as his father tucked into his meal, when his mother caught him glaring.
‘What's the matter, Octavian?’ she asked in her usual sweet and casual nature.
In looks, she appeared dressed in the same manner of clothes Montrose was dressed in, but also her appearance was no different, only her wrinkles didn't show as much. That was the beauty of makeup.
‘Nothing,’ replied Octavian, quickly and upfront with his mother. He picked up his tools for eating, as if ready to dine, and saw his mother smile at him, before she too tucked into her meal.
Half way through their meal, and Octavian interrupted the silence. ‘You were scared,’ he suddenly said, his attention focused on his father.
Montrose put down the cutlery. His head turned slowly towards Octavian. ‘Be silent son, or I will send you to your room of sleep.’
Octavian obeyed his father, his mother exchanging looks among those sitting among her, Sigrete gazed at her husband, disturbed.
‘What were you scared of?’ she asked, all too quietly for Octavian to hear, as he sat opposite her playing with his food. Montrose turned to his wife, gave her a look, and then left the table.
Mother and son alike exchanged worrying expressions, the inquisitive nature in them both, having sparked fury in Montrose, the head of the household.
Four years later, Montrose and Sigrete's son was now ten. Their 'little Vogan' was growing up in the big, wide universe. In the last few years, Octavian's father had refused to read him another bed time story, not since the day he’d asked that awkward question at the morning meal.
His mother, being matron at the Galactic Hospital had referred her husband to a physician on many occasions.
Octavian's childhood had always been a difficult time. From the time before mention of the Cyber invasion, father and son time had been amazing. But since the mention of tales beyond his own reasoning, husband and wife, father and son time was taken up with work. Work, neither pair, Sigrete nor Octavian had ever heard Montrose make mention of before.
Each day, coming home from work, and handled with care, was machinery being used to make contact; unusual contacts. Having now successfully kept a secret from his loved ones, Montrose was ready to realise great things.
Voga was very much the way it had always been, with little changes made to enhance the planet's riches. In every passage, left discarded everywhere, as if worth nothing, was gold. The rocks, the walls, the caves, even the clothes worn by everyday Vogans, but this was why, in all the many years since the 'great invasion', which had cost many lives, there had only ever been that one conflict.
This had been so due to the government being put in charge, and wanting to rule themselves instead of being governed by 'Planet in Charge', the equivalent to the Galactic Federation in relation to the galaxy and their extended dictatorships. But the Vogans were also very much a peaceful race but they shook off such evil in the rest of the galaxy.
Little did the government, in which Montrose worked, realise he was up to no good, yet in Montrose's mind, he was serving both his people and family in establishing a partnership. Whilst he had been busy working on such matters, this had meant little fun spent with his family, much to his regret.
He loved his son. To him, Octavian meant the world to him, as did his wife. He loved them both equally, but what he was embarking on at present would, in his mind, had proven to be no more or less important.
Whilst Octavian wanted to be with his father, he had watched as his relationship with him loosened as work took control of his life.
Octavian was aware of his father's line of work, and what business exactly he did not know. It was a lot more complicated than just business. Montrose was hatching plans with Vogan's all time foes, and like the great war before, not all was as it seemed.
One night, whilst his son and wife slept, Montrose slipped out into the vast cave system beyond, to an area only known to him to communicate via some concealed machinery. Sneaking out into the late hours was always a strain on his very nature. He did wonder if ever he were discovered by his family whether they'd expose his guilty secret. He sat down on a rock just above the gold dust, and removed a large stone wedged within the rock face, revealing small chunks of machinery. One of the bits and bobs had a small radar dish attached, and several dials, and was easily held in one hand.
‘Time to get things moving,’ he muttered, checking that all was functioning correctly before he activated the device. Once switched on, the small dish began to twirl in small circles. Blips and blobs appeared on the tiny monitor just below the numerous buttons flashing red, below the small, gold dish.
‘Ah,’ murmured Montrose, in a quiet whisper. ‘It seems they are in the right galaxy at least,’ he concluded. He watched as the monitor zoomed in closer toward the space shuttle hurling through space. From where Voga was situated, the shuttle wasn't too far off, and would be soon arriving to greet Montrose and the many hundreds of Vogans in their path.
Montrose switched the device off, and placed it back within the rock face and returned the stone. Then, whilst checking if anybody was indeed close by, he quickly pulled out another device from beneath his tunic. This time, the machinery in which he would make contact with those he had brought back to Voga.
The device was in fact similar to the communication device he had just used, but unlike the many bits and bobs in relation to the planet of gold, this device was silver, and belonged to the Cybermen.
He dialled a four digit code into the small, compact device, and it began to hum. Then, after a moment or two, a voice began to speak, echoing around the cave area Montrose was in.
‘Vogan ally, you have called upon us, and we hear you,’ crunched a voice with no tone or tuning.
‘How many of you are there?’ asked Montrose, eagerly awaiting their arrival.
‘We are six in number, but in strength, we are many, however they are in cryogenic chambers and not yet ready to be reactivated,’ responded the alien voice.
As it spoke, and whilst Montrose listened hard, its sinister being seemed to penetrate his mind, as if the image of it talking, combined with the older Vogan's fear, took him over. ‘I understand,’ he said, a moment later.
‘My processed mind has picked up some hesitation in your voice,’ added the Cyberman.
‘No, no, I was just taking what you said in…’ Montrose quickly picked up, aware of how the Cybermen operated.
‘This is how we go on, from strength to strength, without vulnerability of useless emotions interfering with tasks of maximum importance. When we dock on Vogan within the next time span, your species will fall to the might of our race, and your son, will join us at our side, as the new Cyber Controller!’
Montrose fell silent, the device still held to his ear, but his jaw had dropped, and his eyes now closed, as he clenched his teeth, his fists also, and he began to see through what it was he had been working towards. ‘NO!’ he screamed, and then realising his family was only down the cave beyond he stifled any further outburst. ‘This was not what I agreed to,’ he whispered, ‘and you certainly aren't going to use my son as your new controller. Should you choose to fight against us, we will be ready. We've grown in anger and hatred for your species, but you should thank me for showing you some compassion,’ Montrose raged, but he was now seriously worried about what he had got himself into.
He waited on the Cyberman to respond.
‘You will die first Vogan,’ was the dreaded response. ‘As we arrive on Voga,’ the Cyberman continued, ‘we will seek you out with our cyber-technology and destroy you. Again, your race has only you to blame, for luring the Cybermen into a conflict in which they cannot win. You are the enemy Voga has brought upon itself, and once your people find out, you and your family will be better off in the hands of the Cybermen!’
Montrose never made an attempt to respond to that. He cut the connection, and ran on through the cave, as far from his family as he could possibly get. He never wanted this, any of the strain to have been brought down upon his loved ones. He ran on further through the night, but little did he know that the communication device was still functioning as normal and although his mind was free of the Cybermen’s control the device was not, and through it they could track the Vogan's movements.
On board their shuttle, shooting through space, the Cybermen continued with their planning on means of attack. Two Cybermen stood at the flight deck, whilst other Cybermen stood waiting, ready to receive orders, while the Cyber-leader, continued to reactivate the rest of their warriors.
‘Leader, is it wise to bring all our units into a war? We know not the power these Vogans now possess?’ asked the Cyber-leader's body guard, close beside him.
The black handle bars turned sharply in the direction of the Cyberman with as many questions in tow unlike any other designated protector. Still, the other Cybermen had respect for the Cyber-unit’s concern.
‘We must be prepared for any means of combat from the resistance we may receive on arrival on the planet Voga,’ was the loud and ruthless response from the Unit's leading body.
‘We must show these Vogans that this time, Voga will go down in Cyber-history for being one of many planets to fall under the might of the Cyber race.’
The other Cybermen watched as their leader turned back to release the cryogenically frozen Cybermen from their chambers. They watched in hope that their circuits were still intact.
The Cyber-leader watched as each of the Cybermen stirred from its cryogenic chamber. ‘This time,’ continued the Cyber leader, turning to its warriors, its presence, bold, dark, and frightening, Its cold tear shaped eye sockets overflowing with bubbling hatred. ‘We the Cybermen will conquer and destroy, and show no mercy on the planet below!’