We needed pure Validium, the living metal. A substance crafted by Rassilon, needed to kill one of his own creations.
Each of the three TARDIS contains Validium, but it is corrupt and useless. When Sen regenerates the SASTAP will regenerate also. Then she will have the power to purify the others. To leave this place we need her. She knows her death is coming and it must be by our hand.
And so to Drillon. A Timelord who chose the name DALEK, a psychiatrists field day right there. I went to see him this evening. We must never forget that Drillon is an exile. President Romana herself, and The High Council, banished him to this reality for his meddling in the affairs of other races and the (alleged) theft of certain technology from The Citadel, at Wild Endeavour. There between the Mountains of Solace and Solitude, on our home planet in the constellation of Kasterborous, beneath the copper moon of Pazithi Gallifreya.
As well as holding the key to the Quantum Barrier and to his own sealed genetic template (stolen from the House Chapter of the Arcalian), he also took a relic of unimaginable power. This was never proved.
I believe Drillon himself is of the Prydonian, a not unsurprising revelation, and it was said he sympathised with the disgust of The Kelad at the use of Temporal Intervention by an emissary of Gallifrey to bring about the destruction of the Daleks prior to their misguided attempted conquests of time. A dark hour in our planets long history. Right or wrong, it is not for me to say.
At his trial, he accused the high council of being "...dust covered academics living in ivory towers, feigning unconcern and ignorant with the external affairs of the universe while a self-righteous inner circle uses the lesser races like puppets."
And so I approached him this evening and asked if it were true. Did he have the weapon? He made we welcome in his own TARDIS without the slightest hint of fear or doubt that in his his domain he could crush me like an insect. He smiled that half smile of his. Before I took it from his hands, he made me say "please". He took off his sunglasses and looked at me. A brilliant mind burning behind those eyes of his. He made me say "Please Drillon, may I take The Bow of The Nemesis to kill the child of Rassilon".
Secretly, in a way, I have to admire him. I admire his strength of conviction to his own truth if nothing else. Maybe that is his madness, maybe his genius. I have always considered Drillon the more physical of our triumvirate, but in truth this world offers little in the way of intellect to rival him. He has rebuilt his TARDIS to near perfection in his time here, making alterations directly to the main engines and lacking only a power source (as do we). I am glad that (for now at least) he is with our cause, but can not help think that to what ends?
Regardless, we are armed. We will do the deed Wednesday. Lightfoot will bear the bow, my attention will be required to keep Sen where we want her. This must go smoothly or all is lost.