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Downed pilot discovers a lost tribe of beautiful women.

'And this is the moment that led to your creation,' Sander said. 'To prevent a malicious alien from destroying her Time Lord friend at every point along his timeline, Clara Prime followed him into the Doctor's timeline, splitting her identity across every point of divergence from how it had originally been, to live and die multiple lives to keep the Doctor's life in check. Self sacrifice becomes the central theme of her lives, and can you guess who you're going to meet on that planet the Alaska crashes on?'

'So, you're saying that I need to be present on the Alaska when it crashes so I can meet some alien I've never met before... presumably as a Dalek, to take part in some conflict I've never committed to?' The voice in Clara's head was a constant internal pressure now, building, demanding that she agree, commanding submission to what was happening.

'Yes. Basically. To do otherwise would be... disastrous. I hold no love for the Time Lords, and this one specifically has raised my ire something fierce, but I can't deny his importance in numerous critical points in history,' Sander said, bitterness etching his voice. 'He goes, we all go, Clara. Not just us, countless other worlds and people and cultures, dispersed all throughout time and space.'

'And I just die? Me, here, this Oswin Oswald, who has a life and a family of her own, I die for that?' Clara couldn't help the crack in her voice as she spoke, even as the pressure in her mind had filled almost all of the available space, making it almost impossible to focus on what Sander was saying.

'That is what the force in your head is telling you to do, isn't it?' Sander said. 'It knows. That's the original you, the template upon which you were based, trying to order you around. You're not her, of course. Not anymore; you've lived a whole life that she was never party to, met people and done things she never has... You are Oswin Oswald, not her. You don't think there's a reason you should die for her battle.'

'That's right.'

'And I quite agree,' Sander said. 'That's why I came to you. There's no reason that every iteration of Clara Oswald needs to be in their respective places, you're one of the ones I can save, being that you exist contiguously with myself. Like I said before, I'm here to offer you a deal to get out of this whole mess unscathed.'

'A deal? So you want something in return, this isn't something you're doing out of the goodness of your heart?' Clara asked, tilting her head as suspicion mounted in her.

'Coming to you like this is out of the goodness of my heart,' Sander responded without a second thought. 'I didn't have to do that. I have ways of just making you do what I want, with minimal effort on my part. Instead, I've come to you to offer you a choice, a way out you can take of your own accord. So you're no longer a plaything of powers beyond your control. I would have thought such a thing would appeal to you.'

Clara spent a moment searching the man's face, and what she found was surprisingly... honest. There was little attempt to sugar coat what was happening, no sense that what he was doing was charitable present in his features. He was, from head to toe, merely offering a business deal that just happened to include a human life as the stakes. It wasn't particularly uncommon for Selestene, trades like that, but the fact that he saw no need to hide away the grim reality of what was on offer was comforting, in some strange sense; there seemed less chance of being trapped in some game he was playing away from her sight. Everything she needed to know was right there in front of her.

'I'm listening,' Clara said finally, the words coming out something like a sigh, the image of her own destroyed body still sticking in her mind. 'Tell me what you're thinking.'

'I have a way to get you out of this,' Sander began, leaning in closer to her over the table.

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