The Three Masters

by Steve61

Events in three points in time force three versions of the Master to encounter one another.

Note:

We've all seen multiple-Doctor stories before, but I've also always wanted to see a multiple-Master story, so here it is.

I realize that other authors have established how many Masters there have been, which one is which number/incarnation, and how the deformed one from 'The Deadly Assassin' got that way, but this is my version.

For clarity sake in this story, I've established that the First Master is the Roger Delgado version, the Second is Peter Pratt from 'The Deadly Assassin', and the Third would be Anthony Ainley's incarnation, even though the Delgado version isn't considered the 'first' incarnation of the character.

The planet Moxx, Earth-year 2488 A.D.:

The First Master had established himself as the supreme ruler of this primitive world, proclaiming himself as a God amongst the humanoid-reptilian race that had been the dominant species of this remote world, until the Time Lord had arrived unannounced and with great (technologically-created) fanfare. Materializing his TARDIS at the top of the ancient Plateau of Worship, in a chameleon-circuit rendition of a fabled Pillar of the Heavens, he made his grand appearance during the holiest of events, and backed up his 'credentials' with a fireworks and weather display, courtesy of pre-programmed TARDIS mechanisms.

Despite his alien appearance, the Moxxites had no choice but to believe that he was The Master, the Chosen Guardian of the Creator Of All Things, and by every definition, a God, himself. There were non-believers to be sure, but unlike the Doctor, who would argue until he was blue in the face as to his authenticity, the Master had nether the patience nor the interest in dealing with new enemies, so they were immediately put to death with a sonic lance, something that was thousands of years away from ever being developed on the primitive planet.

"You have no need to fear me!" the Master proclaimed, despite wearing his traditional black suit and gloves, stretching out his arms wide, his voice carrying far beyond the temple. "Unless, of course, you are evil, as they were!" he added, gesturing towards the charred bodies of the downed Moxxites. "I bring you tidings of happiness and contentment, and word that the Creator Of All Things has spoken to me, to impart upon me news that your world shall be cleansed of all evil, and only the good and obedient shall remain behind to make this the land of your dreams!"

The Master smirked as the faces of the Moxxites broke out into ravenous happiness, hoping to convince him that they were good, and deserved to live to see these happy days to come. The darkness within his hooded eyes, and dangerous hunger for power on his graying saturnine features was lost amongst the reptilian humanoids, who had never seen one like the Master before, for if they had, they would have surely fallen to their knees and prayed to their real God for help against the Time Lord imposter.

The planet Korilia, Earth-year 4009 A.D.:

This version of the First Master was several years in the future from the Time Lord on the planet Moxx, and had recently abandoned his alliance with the Daleks, leaving a galaxy in chaos, what with the humans and Draconians barely able to trust one another, trading accusations of who attacked whom. The Doctor and that annoying Miss Grant had foiled his Big Plan, and his mortal enemy might have even survived that glancing shot he'd fired from his gun, but at least he'd done a decent job of creating an enjoyable era of distrust and paranoia amongst the lesser species. His Ogron associates had also long since been abandoned, and truth be told, they weren't the most reliable agents or pawns. Muscle, yes, brains, surely not!

So it was that the Master, dressed in a business suit and hooded cloak with an attached hood- the traditional garb of the upper-class of the Korilian country of Barl, set a trap for the Doctor on this new world, or perhaps a plan to damage the Galactic Time Line that the Time Lords would see fit to send for the Doctor to stop, offering the Master another chance to lock horns with his annoying good counterpart. Two superpowers were on the brink of a world war for the first time in Korilia's history; the country of Novo-Revo, and the country he found himself in at this moment.

"I say again, gentlemen," the Master told the gathered Heads of State of the Unified Alliance of Barl, "that by all accounts, our enemies across the Red Ocean have begun their own first-strike initiative! I have seen it! And their ambassadors are adamant that the time for talk is over! If we do not act now...we shall all surely die in atomic clouds of fire!"

The collected gray-skinned humans broke out into terrified conversation, speaking over one another at the words of the man who was posing as their own ambassador, complete with gray makeup to make his flesh the same color as theirs. Outwardly, his features displayed one of great concern, and restrained stoicness.

Inside, he was laughing at the fear and terror that the foolish human apes were experiencing.

Just one more visit to the enemies of the U.A.B., and he could sit back and enjoy the carnage!

The Auranagan Star System, Earth-year 10,071 B.C.:

The Third Master, wearing his jet-black outfit with its high collar adorned with golden zig-zagged piping, reclined back with his feet up in his comfortable chair, a cold drink his gloved hand, a massive viewscreen before him...and a male companion next to him in a similar state, although his eyes were locked onto the viewscreen, nearly unblinking.

"Damn, I've never seen such a big screen TV, Master! This is awesome!"

The Master chuckled softly, and said, "Just wait until the real show begins, Briggs. The handiwork of our actions is about to commence!"

The 25-year old Earth man sat up in his recliner, biting his lower lip in excitement and anticipation. The Master sneered with a malicious smile, thinking to himself that he was beginning to understand why the meddlesome Doctor always surrounded himself with companions- there was a certain pleasure to be taken in having an eyewitness to your victor that truly enjoyed death and carnage, to say nothing of someone to actually enable that victory! The past three weeks with this human misfit had been some of the best times in quite a while, and the Doctor had yet to interfere with their deadly actions. His rival might even be unaware that he'd escaped from Xeraphas recently, and was 'on the prowl', as they say, looking for new ways to spread his own wings and make his presence known.

"Now!" the Master hissed, releasing another chuckle as the viewscreen lit up.

"Oooooh! Awwwwwsome, Master! Frickin' awesome!"

The two watched as the planet Auranagan, population one billion, nine-hundred-and-eighty-four million was wiped out, as the quantum-impact device they had planted on a park bench in the capital city a half hour ago, detonated...and pulled the planet inside out within and beyond the Time Vortex, like so much bath water running down a drain.

The planet Moxx, Earth-year 2488 A.D.

The First Master checked his TARDIS chronometer that night, and tutted to himself as his plans to trap the Doctor seemed to have hit a roadblock. He'd been on this Godforsaken backwards planet amidst these dumb reptiles for over a planetary month, and still there was no sign of the Doctor. Surely he'd caused enough chaos and destruction to warrant the Doctor's attention, or that of the Time Lord's so that they would send him here to be a good little Time Lord exile and pay for his limited freedom? Certainly, some time in the future the Doctor would regain his freedom from Earth, and come upon the planet Moxx by choice or by accident? Even a future Doctor, other than the thick-white-haired persona that he'd locked horns with so often, would be a challenge. And being the cause of the Doctor using up a regeneration in his ridiculous crusade to help the poor innocents would give him some measure of enjoyment.

But the planet remained stubbornly Doctor-free.

The Master considered using his TARDIS's telepathic circuits to contact the Doctor's Ship and bring him here, but decided against it. Supreme power over these pitiful lizard men was satisfying for now. After spending time in that wretched human prison himself, and escaping from the Doctor and the Sea Devils, the Master was relishing his power and dominion over the lesser Moxx species too much to let it end just yet.

The planet Korilia, Earth-year 4009 A.D.

As the evening crept up upon the citizens of the United Alliance of Barl, the First Master's footsteps echoed down a cobblestone road, his shadow casting an elongated version of himself as he approached the bottom of the road, and a harmless-looking statue. Opening up a hidden door on one side, the Master climbed inside, and found himself within the illuminated console room of his TARDIS. He'd been successful in convincing the Heads of State of the U.A.B. to initiate an all-out atomic attack on their counterparts in Novo-Revo. In fifteen minutes primitive nuclear weapons would rain down on the obstinate fools of Novo-Revo, but it wasn't enough to simply let the inevitable retaliatory strike commence with the first missiles hitting the fascist country of Novo-Revo.

No, he had plans to make the fireworks more interesting.

His TARDIS arrived in the second country, this time disguised as a collection of cubes- as a work of art, then he removed his U.A.B. garb to don clothing more suitable to the citizens of the country of Novo-Revo, namely a long black coat with ceremonial sash and headband, as well as forged medals attached to both coat lapels. Here it was one hour before he stood before the U.A.B. Heads of State, but there was still four hours difference geographically, so the sun was nearing the horizon to begin Novo-Revo's evening. He climbed the ornately-carved steps of the Prime Building of Government for Novo-Revo, and arrived amongst the angry chattering of the Governors.

They looked to him, in his disguise and persona of one of them, the so-called Master Officer, their imploring eyes begging him to return to them with good news. He looked at them sadly, drinking in their pitiful fears, relishing in their indecision and terror, mirroring their stoic concern, clasping his hands before him as if in reluctant solemness.

Suddenly he broke out into a confident smile behind his graying moustache.

"Very good news, gentlemen! The United Alliance of Barl has petitioned for peace! The war is over! We can all breath safely that there will be a tomorrow...and many more to come!"

They broke out into excited, if not, confused chattering, much to his secret pleasure. The fools had no idea what they were in for!

"We thank you for your efforts, Master Officer! Truly this is a good day to live!" the Prime Governor sighed. "Please relay your message to the Central Control Communications Officer; we need to relay this great news to the rest of the country- they're no doubt just as tense about a world war as we are! They deserve to have their fears assuaged."

The Master bowed and agreed to it, taking a route out of the Prime Building of Government, and not the room that would transmit the news of a ceasefire to Novo-Revo's television and radio stations.

Instead, he left the building and returned to his hidden TARDIS...

...unaware that he, too, was being played.

"Outrageous!"

"A liar!"

"A coward and a traitor!"

"Arrogant weak-willed peace-lover!"
These were some of the comments made about their assigned Master Officer, as the collected group agreed that their ambassador to the U.A.B. was a fool, and not to be trusted.

"We strike Barl tonight with everything we've got! Total annihilation to the vermin across the Central Sea!" shouted one Governor.

"First Strike will commence immediately!" the senior politician in the room proclaimed.

The Auranagan star system, Earth-year 10,071 B.C.:

With the lone class-M planet of the solar system sucked into the Vortex and now non-existent, there was little to watch, other than a sped-up time frame on the screen as the Auranagan system of four other planets displayed cosmic distress from the destruction of the third planet from the sun. The gravimetric forces and complete loss of a large satellite triggered disruptions within their own orbits, transforming the star system into a lifeless, uncoordinated mess.

"You know, Briggs, I must admit," the Third Master smirked, standing up from his chair in the darkened theater room, and tugging down his space-black jacket, "that I thoroughly enjoyed your presence in observing my greatness."

The human male from 2004 grinned up at his new friend and hero. "Thank you, Master! It's been such a cool ride so far! This was amazing!"

"Yes, I thought you'd enjoy seeing your interest in astronomy combined with your on-line computer gaming. You appear to enjoy watching things blow up nearly as much as I do!"

"So we can do this again?" the human asked expectantly, sitting on the edge of his chair, as hopeful as a child wishing to ride a scary rollercoaster again

"Indeed. You'll soon be ready to join me in my own battle against my nemesis, the Doctor."

"Excellent! When do I get to meet him? I'll soften him up with some kicks to the head, and use my switchblade to-"

The Master sighed inwardly, but kept his teeth-clenching grin evident. There was a certain refreshing sound to Briggs' words of violence, seeing as they were coming from someone who hadn't been hypnotized to do his bidding, or even blackmailed. No, this Larry Briggs had a dark side all his own, starting with a terrible childhood and numerous run-ins with the authority in his teens and early twenties. Possessing the facial features and demeanor of someone who'd crossed the law and dressed the part- shaved head, Doc Marten boots, torn jeans, he was the perfect 'companion' to a Time Lord who had long ago turned his back on his own society.

The Master held up a hand to silence his overzealous associate, and said, "All in due time, my friend. But I need time to plan, to cogitate the possibilities. Sometimes my plans take months or years to enact, such as when I made contact with the Nestene Consciousness."
"Months or...years?" Briggs frowned.

The Master chuckled to himself. "Yes, my earlier incarnations were a bit on the thorough side, a little more cautious, taking care to create pawns, strategize to the smallest calculation, and take all factors into account to minimize his chances for our potential defeat. He was a bit more meticulous because I had all the time in the cosmos, whereas I'm a little older and wiser than them."

"'Earlier incarnations'? What dies that mean? You're mixing up First and Second person," Briggs wanted to know.

The Master hesitated, but kept his features neutral. "I'll explain later. Trust me, my devilish companion, I won't spend the next six months trying to trap the Doctor, but I will need time to look for any traces of him in time and space, and then decide if I want to arrive a week before he does, or perhaps follow him to a new world."

"Okay. Whatever," the young man sighed, obviously controlled by youthful, impatient genes.

"In the meantime, I offer you the stellar theater for your amusement. I've shown you how to work the controls, so you can watch real-time interstellar wars or those recorded in the past or future by my Time Lord brethren. Or watch as planets and moons destroy themselves- whatever you wish. In the meantime, I'll be in the console room, addressing our next mission against the Doctor. I need to access my data banks and scan the Vortex for signs of his Ship."

Briggs watched the Master leave the darkened room, and hefted the remote control, eventually sliding back into his recliner. The power that this so-called Master possessed was beyond human imagination, and Briggs's dark heart craved it all for himself. Unfortunately, the Master had wisely kept Briggs locked out of the console room for most of the time, so he'd never observed the Time Lord working the controls, and truth to tell, the mushroom-shaped console looked far too complicated to, uh, master, himself. Hell, he could only drive a car- not fly a plane, so a time machine would obviously be too crazy to even ponder operating by himself.

Still, the Master seemed to enjoy the dark, so-called negative elements of human emotion, and appeared open to letting him, Briggs, use his fists and weapons on others. And since that was the case, the Master just might make him rich and powerful during their voyages, letting him steal and take what he wanted. He sat back in his recliner, scanned the holographic menu for interesting alien names and settled on, 'Sontaran / Rutan conflict, sector 488HYM78/01-TR-4, planet Karn'.

The planet Korilia, Earth-year 4009 A.D.:

The First Master dressed back into his Barl business suit and cloak, and materialized his TARDIS just minutes after he'd left it. From the safety of Heads of State building, he'd watch as the Unified Alliance of Barl sent their missiles to their targets across the cities of Novo-Revo, which he'd just convinced to lay down their arms. The resultant one-sided annihilation of Novo-Revo would be most amusing. However, he wasn't prepared for what was about to transpire!

His eyes wide, imploring and welling up with tears, First State Head Zollis, nearly leaped for him, clutching the surprised Master's lapels in shaking hands. "You said they'd sue for peace! You told us that we could win this war! What've you done?"

The Master's hands whipped out like a pair of cobras, releasing the president-level politician's hands from his person. "Un-hand-me, sir! What are you drabbling about?" the Master demanded to know, only to spot the source of terror for himself. On a primitive radar screen, numerous contacts were on their way towards the Unified Alliance! In fact, the first two had already struck and detonated over coastal cities! The Master's mouth lay gaping open, realization dawning easily. "They've...retaliated! Despite what I..."

"'RETALIATED'?" the First Head screamed, his gray face flushed with unbridled anger. "How can a retaliatory strike commence if WE HAVE NOT YET FIRED OUR OWN MISSILES AT THEM?"

The Master's dark eyes widened with indignant rage. The fascists hadn't believe him when he time travelled back to them one hour ago, and in that time they'd initiated a first strike against the U.A.B.! These people he was surrounded with now were only just beginning to launch their own missiles, not as a U.A.B. first strike, but as return fire!

But that would mean-!

"I must go!" the Master announced, his hood whipping around behind him, only to be clutched by the First Head, again

"And just where would that be, Ambassador?" the First Head shouted. "No, no! You're going to die here and now! Like the rest of us! You shall pay for your sins against our God for yo-"

The First Head's words were lost amidst the chaotic shouts and activity of the room, as well as the violent, single twist of his skull as the Master broke his neck. Panicked officials were just entering the big doors of the room, only to be shoved violently aside as the Master ran past them.

He dashed out of the Heads of State building.

He ran directly for the rear loading dock area that his TARDIS had materialized in.

He stopped in his tracks, his hearts pounding.

His TARDIS had been moved!

The planet Moxx, Earth-year 2488 A.D.:

The First Master paced his console room with simmering annoyance. The wretched Doctor was always showing up unannounced at the worst times- the human colony on Lostrella when he'd sought out the doomsday weapon and impersonated an Adjudicator, summoning the Daemon at Devil's End, so many other times. So why hadn't he arrived here on Moxx? Of course, the Master hadn't made a name for himself by a series of failed schemes that involved the Doctor each and every time, and there had been many times, so, so many times that he'd carried out his will and cut a swathe of blood and violence across the galaxies without so much as a finger-wagging from some odious Time Lord, but for some of them the Master had expected his nemesis to arrive on the scene and play the do-gooder. After all, this was the age of IMC aggression and beleaguered human colonists- the perfect mix for an obsessively-compulsive interferer like the Doctor to show his craggy face in.

Preferring a breath of fresh air, and perhaps enforce his godliness over the reptilian primitives the Master activated his TARDIS door controls and stepped out, only to find a trio of Moxxites standing nearby, surprised by his appearance, if their shaking, spear-carrying hands were any indication.

"You want something of me?" the Master slowly, malevolently asked.

"You! Go! You...go away!" one alien insisted, waving a spear tip off towards the great sea that lay beyond yellow sandy beaches and the primitive huts these people called homes.

"No want here! Go-go-go!" insisted another, waving his spear about, but still not close enough to cut the Master.

"Do I take it you want me to leave?"

"Go now! Go hurry!" the first Moxxite growled, fearfully.

"Is that any way to address your...GOD?"

The power in the Master's eyes and voice chilled the savage aliens, but they stood their ground, despite onlookers of their kind that backed away as the drama unfolded. The Master would have little of this, and decided that further carnage was required of him if he was to alert the Doctor to his presence here. From his pocket he produced his Tissue Compression Eliminator, and shrunk one and then the second Moxxite to doll-size, killing them instantly. The third Moxxite screamed in horror and fear, tossing away his spear, and falling to his knees.

"NONONO! MASTER GOOD! MASTER WANTED HERE!"

The evil Time Lord patted his worshipper on his scaly head, soothing the whimpering to a lower gurgle, then silencing his life force permanently, as he, too, was shrunk down to less than a foot tall, amid cries and screams of fear amongst the gathered Moxxites. The Master beheld them, and held out his arms again, his malicious grin stretching his features.

"I remind all of you! I bring you tidings of great hope and prosperity! The evil shall be erased from your world and your obedience shall be rewarded! Joy to you all!"

The Third Master's TARDIS, Earth-year ?:

The Master returned to the auditorium to find Briggs just as enamoured by Time Lord technology and galactic destruction as when he left him. His new 'friend' turned to him with a smile, saying, "Master, can we meet these 'Cybermen' aliens? I'd love to see you cut them down to size!"

The Master grimaced, "I've avoided such a confrontation for quite some time, Briggs, and I'm not about to start now."

The human's face fell from disappointment, his 'hero's bravery suddenly in question. "Are you kidding me, man? You'd kick their robot asses from here to Andromeda! Don't tell me you're afr-"

"DON'T!...ever..utter that word, Briggs, or you'll surely test my patience for your species to it's limit! The Cybermen are not to be trifled with! Even the earlier versions that the Second Doctor encountered. They are unreasoning creatures of darkness that seek only to add to their numbers by way of gruesome surgical skills and absolute logic over mercy. Anyways, that's not why I've returned. Since you're so eager to lock horns, as it were, with the Doctor, I think it's time you had your first lessons in getting to know him."

The Master flipped back the tails of his black coat and sat down in his own chair, activating the huge viewscreen with a remote control and adjusting it's settings. Five faces appeared before them, making the Master visibly cringe, which Briggs noted, but ignored in favor of studying the faces before him. An old man, high forehead with sweptback, longish white hair; a smirking middle-aged Beatle-wannabe with a mop of unruly black hair; a slightly-older guy with thick, wavy white hair and a mighty nose; a younger man with curly brown hair and huge eyes, and lastly, the youngest of all, a fair-haired male with a bland face. The close-ups backed up enough to display the clothing that these men wore, from frock coats to a long multi-colored scarf, to a cricket jacket with a vegetable on it and frilly cuffs or checkered pants.

"Okay, so? Which one is he?"
"All of them."
"All of-?" Briggs asked, squinting at them, his eyes racing back and forth, his monkey brain unable to come to terms with this impasse in logic, so the Master clarified.

"He's not human, Briggs, as I am not, so it should come to no surprise for you that we can regenerate our bodies into a different form when mortally wounded, or at our natural, chronological point of death. The oldest one was his first form, and he's come and gone as the next four."
"Wow!" Briggs sighed, imagining the possibilities of near-immortality. 'Then you-?"
"Yes, I've had several different faces as well, but that's not important right now. Study these faces, so that when we do come across my erstwhile enemy, you'll be able to spot him, even in a crowd."
"Can he look different from these guys? Are there only five of him?"
The Master shrugged, indifferent. "I've come across hints, innuendo, that there may have been many more beyond these gentlemen across time and space, but up until now, my timeline and his have crossed paths enough times to confirm that the youngest there is the most recent. I've had the most dealings with the third and fifth incarnations, but I'm looking forward to the sixth and seventh, and whatever lays beyond."
Briggs looked at him with a harsh stare that seemed to say, 'Are you out of your mind?'. "I thought we were going to kill this guy? And now instead of blowing off pretty boy's head when you meet him, you want to meet his sixth or...aaaah!" Briggs grinned with realization, releasing a sinister chuckle from the Master.

"You understand."
"Riiightrightright! Kill Number Five, he becomes Number Six-"

"Kill Number Six to become Seven, kill Number Seven and so on," the Master nodded. He tilted his head towards the screen, and added, "I would have thoroughly enjoyed being the instrument of the Third Doctor's death for all the misery he put me through, but I got a taste of victory by destroying the Fourth and forcing him to turn into that youthful boy scout! And with your help, I'll relive that glory over and over! It was only by his own bumbling that he changed his form two out of the three previous times, but I intend to be the instrument of his downfall multiple times!"

"Count me in! Hey, does it, uh, hurt when you change?"

The Master's eyes closed for a few seconds as he relived a couple of his own 'deaths', especially...thatone. His dark eyes popped open and he said, "It can be, depending on the trauma to the body. The Fourth Doctor fell from a radio telescope."
"Coool!"
"Yes, I imagine being dragged back into his TARDIS by his companions on still-renewing legs nearly broke his bones all over again!

The planet Korilia, Earth-year 4009 A.D.:

Panicked by the unexpected disappearance of his TARDIS, which he'd parked behind the building only minutes ago, the Master ran about from one end of the building to the next, shoving stupid Korilians to one side whenever they got in his way. With his feature's hidden beneath a hood and his cloak and coat flapping in his racing steps behind him like a supervillain's cape, he caught sight of a transport truck making off with his time machine. A stab of anger and outrage overwhelmed his impending fears as he thought that maybe, just maybe, the accursed Doctor had shown up in time to play this joke on him, but this was not the case as he screamed at the top of his lungs for the driver to stop.

The alien gray-skinned driver looked out his window, confused. "What would be the prob-?" he began to say, only to have his head disconnected from his spine from within by a devastating yank of the Master's hands. The driver slumped over his driver seat window, dead, even as the Master grunted and hefted his cloaked form onto the back of the transport truck, and searched for his TARDIS key within his suit.

"Impudent, unthinking fools! This is hardly the time to remove a illegally-parked-" he mumbled angrily to himself until he stopped, hearing a frightful, unearthly, deadly silence from the city, even as a light, or lights from above seemed to gather illumination. He brought his gaze upwards, and gasped, his dark eyes suddenly without shadow as numerous points of light began to approach from above, accompanied by the faint roar of rocket engines!

The Master froze, countless, arduous, panic-stricken, costly seconds, as his mind deduced that this city was about to be bombarded by Novo-Revo nuclear missiles...and him with it! The missiles rained down across the city and the horizon, which would surely take out the other two teaming metropolises located nearby. A choked gasp was all he allowed himself as he recovered his TARDIS key, and by then everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

He dropped the key.

He bent down and picked it up.

He fumbled with it, turning it around to insert the proper end into the lock.

The key was inserted.

He pressed the door too soon.

He turned the key, again.

An explosion.

He pressed the door too soon.

He turned the key the rest of the way.

Another explosion.

A brilliant light from behind.

He pushed the door open.

Extreme heat from behind, as if someone opened up a massive, broiling oven.

He took one step forward, the door swinging inward.

The sound of a building or buildings being ripped asunder.

The light from behind becoming nearly white in intensity.

The heat from behind increased by unimaginable magnitudes.

Another step inside his TARDIS.

Overwhelming heat that seared and engulfed his clothing, before igniting it into flames.

A shock wave that threw him inside his TARDIS, even as it fell forward, itself.

Agony.

Fear.

Flames.

Burning.

Tossed about like a doll on fire.

Collisions.

Fear.

Flames.

Burning.

Screaming.

The planet Moxx, Earth-year 2488 A.D.:

The day had begun as usual for the First Master; worship and cries of loyalty from his reptilian subjects, until a whistling sound began to rise across the horizon with increased volume. The aliens noticed it, too, and chattered amongst themselves, wondering as to the source. The Master removed a high-power mini-telescope from a pocket, and soon found the source of the inexplicable sound...a spaceship! And judging by the slight rocking it was doing as it decelerated and drew closer to the Moxxite surface, a vessel in danger. Worse still- it was heading for him and his village!

The Master feigned control over the situation, and called out to his gathered servants, "Fear not! I bring you a visitor of unusual intelligence and being! It is I who bring forth the sound and the flying machine that descends towards us!"

This seemed to placate the primitive reptiles, who now just seemed interested to see their lord and master work his magic. Inwardly the Master was estimating the potential landing site of the craft (hopefully it wouldn't smash into the village and touch down normally), but he was also seriously considering a quick exit in his TARDIS, should the situation veer off into unexpected tangents.

After all it wasn't the Doctor's TARDIS materialising before him...

...it was a starship of unknown origin even to him.

The planet Earth, 1963 A.D.:

The Third Master led the way, not walking out of his disguised TARDIS, but rather climbing out of it through a metal and glass door that swung widely. Briggs followed him awkwardly, whistling to himself as he beheld the TARDIS's new form.

"Get a load of this junk heap!" he laughed, evoking a challenging glare from his Time Lord master. "No, no, I mean the car! You've got your Ship disguised like a real old-time piece of crap car! All bloated steel and huge engine-the kind that used to spew out loads of noxious carbon dioxide! My grandfather used to have one of these in the Fifties! Great disguise, man! What year is this?"

"We're on a London street in 1963, a pivotal time in the Doctor's timeline. I traced an energy signature here which might be his TARDIS, and my data files tell me some of his associates will be along shortly."
"So?"
"I plan to use one in particular as a bargaining chip against a future version of him, namely the Fifth Doctor. With our quarry in our grasp, he'll do whatever I ask, for fear of tampering with his timeline so far into his past. Ah! Look!"

The Master and Briggs watched as a young girl, somewhere on the brink of her late teen years and early womanhood, stopped and passed through a tall gate outside a deserted business on a foggy street, closing the door behind her. Briggs squinted through the fog from across the street.

"'76 Totter's Lane, I.. Is that supposed to be a junkyard?"
The Master nodded, "And beyond, his TARDIS. That woman is a female of great importance to the Doctor. Follow me."

The Time Lord took just two steps before Briggs clutched his arm, and pulled him back, silently pointing at a man and woman that had just climbed out of their own car near the junkyard entrance.

"Better wait until they're gone," Briggs cautioned, prompting the Master to nod in reluctant agreement, as they hunched down behind his disguised time machine. However, the couple surprised the conniving duo by pausing in front of the doors of I.'s business, and then also entered the junkyard, closing the gate behind them. "What the heck...?"
The Master straightened up, his features crumbling into frustration. "It would appear that the Doctor's companions have returned to his Ship. Although I've never met any of those ones before."
"Then how can you be sure-?"

"Because my device is reading the presence of his rust-bucket Type 40 TARDIS beyond that wall!" the Master snapped, giving his device a slap with a gloved hand. "There's too many of them now. We'll need to regroup, search the Vortex for another time and place."

"Whaaat?" Briggs said, incredulous. "He's got two women and a skinny dude in there with him, and you think I can't deal with them alone, while you bash the Doctor, yourself?"

"It's not that simple!" the Master snapped in a hushed tone. "I have no way of knowing which Doctor is beyond there! He could be the short, sloppily-dressed one, the one that's all teeth and curls, or a completely unfamiliar one from my future! There are better times to track him down to, when he has but a single companion, one that's female and more than likely to fear you and your penchant for knives."

He noticed the vibrations and soft chiming of an instrument in his pocket, which Briggs thought was a cell phone. However, when the Master removed it, the human could tell it wasn't such a thing, but rather a device unique to his experience. The Master's features tightened, as did his jaw as he considered the ramifications of what the machine was telling him. The Time Lord told him that they had to leave, so reluctantly, the Master climbed back into his TARDIS, followed by Briggs, then a minute later, the air was rent by the soft wheezing of the time machine dematerializing.

Less than two minutes later, the First Doctor found himself at the entrance to the Foreman junkyard, pausing momentarily to wave his handkerchief in his face to give himself fresh air, following his little fright. He'd thought he'd heard the TARDIS dematerialize, only to find her safe and sound behind the wall of the junkyard.

As well as movement in the shadows amongst the refuse ...

The planet Korilia, Earth-year 4009 A.D.

The TARDIS doors had somehow closed out the broiling cinder that used to the Unified Alliance capitol, but the damage had been done. The First Master had rolled about the floor, trying in vain to extinguish the flames from the nuclear furnace outside, but even in the process, his Ship had been tossed about during the shock waves, and his body had not just been fried, but battered.

'Like...like...English fish...and chips!' the Master's mind, bruised and abused, chuckled within, only to succumb to a frightful stab of pain not just across his scarred, burned face, but also his sizzling lungs within his chest. His entire body still felt like it was on fire, igniting his pain receptors in his broiled flesh worse than that unfortunate accident on Jaconda, so long ago. That incident hadn't led to a regeneration, but this had, and it had gone horribly wrong.

The TARDIS console room was still illuminated, and automatic defensive mechanisms were triggered as it sensed his injuries, extinguishing the flames that had swaddled his body and encroached within the console room. Air circulation systems cleared the air, and the H.A.D.S. kicked in very late. The Hostile Action Defense System automatically initiated partial dematerialization, so that the TARDIS was a micro-second ahead in time, still on Korilia, but invisible to all that remained behind in the 'normal' time frame.

The Master's chest shivered and gurgled as he realized that he was dying, fluid trickling out of his mouth and nose across burned tissue. He had fought so gallantly, so forcefully in all these years, defeated enemies from here to the Chendrak Galaxy, and given the Doctor more than a few sleepless nights. And here, on a bombed-out planet that the Doctor had never even bothered to protect, was where it would all end. He tried to keep his breathing normal, tried to remain calm, but the oncoming blackness was enough to ignite even the slightest speck of fear within him.

"Ith thith...death?" his mutilated mouth slurred.

He'd had such grandiose plans, such exciting possibilities to come to fruition, traps to lay, and weaklings to destroy. His legacy was still to be added to, wasn't it? He was feared and reviled across the stars, but there was more, oh, so much, much more death and chaos he could still take delight in initiating! It wasn't fair! If he was to die, let it be at the hands of an enemy, not from a nondescript nuclear weapon on this wretched, unimportant planet! Not from a plan that backfired on him!

'Can't die!' his mind screamedeven as he felt his senses fade, his cells to energize, and his body begin to glow. 'MUSTN'T DIIIEEE! Too much left to do! Can't allow the Doctor to win!Yes! YES!Blessed regeneration!It's happening! It is!' the First Master realized as he metamorphosed into the Second Master.

'But...it feels different this time...'

The planet Moxx, Earth-year 2488 A.D.:

The Moxxites milled about and kept their excited gasps and conversation to a soft murmur as the alien starship set down just at the perimeter of the village with an awkward thud, coming to rest at a slight angle to port. Steeling himself the First Master garnered every cell of bravery within himself, and approached the strange craft. He recognized an airlock on the port side, and strode over to it like he owned the vessel, even as he located the nomenclature painted onto the hull, his TARDIS-translation circuits allowing him to read the alien script.

With his customary dark calm, the Master clasped his black-gloved hands before him, and stared at the airlock with his salt-and-pepper goatee dipped slightly towards his chest, while his blazing black eyes gazed fiercely at the ship's exit point. The Moxxites stopped their incessant noise, and awaited the visitors to disembark, as their master seemed to expect. With the grinding of decades-old gears and hydraulics, the metal door scraped against the metal frame as it slid to one side, followed by the metal crinkling of a framework ladder extending downwards into the sandy ground.

The Master didn't move a muscle as he saw movement from within a blue-hued airlock, a flash of reflective material catching a glint of light, a flowing garment fluttering in the soft breeze of the Moxxite morning.

And then they came out.

The first was his own regal counterpart, displaying no fear or reluctance- only a silent demand for respect and cooperation, as her cape caught a gust of breeze and waved behind her, her helmet, nicked and scratched (from combat? age? both?) bounced the light from the sun of Moxx back towards the gathered conglomeration of Moxxites and Time Lord.

The second and third were two lumbering giants, their armour of a different but no less resilient form. Their helmets covered the majority of their heads, and seemed intended to frighten anyone that dared look at them. The false bravado made the Master smirk from the childish mind games.

"Welcome to the planet Moxx," the Master finally said as the aliens came to a stop before him. "I rule this village."

The alien stared at him, looked him up and down, and then observed the obvious physiological difference between the Time Lord and the Moxxites.

"And who are you?" the alien female newcomer growled, suspiciously.

"I am known as the Master," the renegade growled back in his own challenge, then abruptly offered a polite bow and a forced smile, suddenly pouring on the charm that had served him well in so many campaigns. "And may I say what a great honour it is to have such welcomed guests to my planet? I offer my heartfelt welcome to you and the crew of the IMC Battlecraft Poseidon, Star Captain. The planet Moxx welcomes the visitation of such warriors!"

The planet Korilia, Earth-year 4009 A.D.:

The Second Master struggled to breath through damaged lungs, and unfocused eyes, even as he forced himself to sit up, a wave of dizziness and nausea impeding his recovery. He knew his regeneration was finished, on an instinctive level, but several factors confused him. His eyes couldn't blink, and unlike previous regenerations, he was having trouble breathing normally. Perhaps a full recovery in his TARDIS's Zero Room was in order? Yes, that would ease his pain-wracked body and ease his residual cellular energy expulsion. His cloak and business suit had been seared in the atomic flames, charred to a crinkled gray mess, which still felt hot to his skin, and might have actually melted in parts against his flesh. As he rolled to one side to prop himself up on one arm, and climb to his feet, his unblinking eyes beheld gnarled, burned hands and forearms.

The Second Master gasped, coughing up fluid and releasing a gagging cry of surprise at the sight. He paused long enough to look at his hands, wretchedly deformed and burned. How he was able to flex his joints and still use them, despite the rubbery pain within was a mystery to him, but for now, he had no choice. He had to get to his Zero Room to recover, and use his mind to force his body to recover from the near-life ending damage it had been put through.

He groaned and grunted as his new body was forced to stand, the floor of his TARDIS tilted at a fifteen degree angle as his time machine lay propped up against who knew what outside. He wanted off this planet, away from these idiotic bloodthirsty fools that he'd believed could be manipulated by him, but were in fact just as treacherous as he was! Bent over his console, he activated a series of controls, and simply dematerialized his Ship from the hell-hole of a conflagration that used to be Korilia, and simply sent his ship into a temporal orbit within the Vortex. He could land somewhere when he'd recovered sufficiently.

He shuffled down several corridors within his darkened TARDIS, finding the Zero Room waiting for him, his Ship having prepared it for its master's use. He felt to his knees, still disturbed that he couldn't blink his wide-open eyes, but that would be tended to, later. Grunting and gasping at the burns on his body and the rough texture of his clothing which he now knew had melted directly into his skin, he fell onto his back, and forced ancient Gallifreyan mind techniques to steady his nerves and get into the proper trance. When he'd done so, the Zero Room's telepathic systems deactivated the local gravity, and allowed the Second Master to float a few feet off the floor, his burned hands resting on his belly on top of each other, simulating a peacefulness that he surely did not feel.

The Third Master's TARDIS, Earth-year ?:

Returning his ship to the Vortex, the Master wandered about his controls, for now allowing his human companion to remain, but only because he was about to re-materialize in a few minutes time. The human stood off to one side, arms crossed, his expression one of annoyance at being left out of the loop. He mentally chided the Master for his silence and mysteriousness- this Doctor they were chasing probably told his companions everything they needed to know! He probably offered all kinds of instructions and information to them, unlike this mute black-clad wizard from another planet.

"At least tell me where we're going?" Briggs sulked.

"Still within the confines of your miser-, your Earth, Briggs," the Third Master revealed, stepping back from his controls, levelling his dangerous companion with a serious expression. "Still in 1963, but now on the other side of this world- a locale known as 'New Mexico', in the United States."

Briggs didn't seem too impressed. "Well, at least you didn't bring me to Disney Land! I don't think I could have stood being around those brats and cartoon characters!"

The Master didn't respond, and truth be told, wasn't sure what the human was rambling about. The console chimed, and the time rotor ceased its up and down motion, announcing softly, almost sinisterly, that the Ship had landed. He pulled out his device again, and once the doors were opened, the sensors came alive.

"Wanna tell me what's out there? Is it the Doctor?"

The Master shook his head, and led the way out, saying, "Something far more powerful than the Doctor. Come- Area 51 awaits!"

The Second Master's TARDIS, Earth-year ?:

The newly-regenerated Second Master's eyes were still unable to close, his trance state faded, and his perceptions returned to him, even as his TARDIS gradually increased gravitation within the Zero Room, slowly lowering him to the cold floor, so that he could rise to his feet. It was a painful struggle, and time had lost its meaning. How long had he maintained his trance? 5 minutes? 5 hours? 5 days? He beheld his mutilated, burned hands and saw that only the merest amount of cellular repair had taken place. If he was to survive in this form, he would have to go out into the universe and find doctors and surgeons of unequalled skill that could repair the damage done to his body by the nuclear flames that had engulfed his body.

He staggered and limped out of the Zero Room into the darkened corridors, aware that his TARDIS's telepathic circuits were aware of his condition, and kept the lighting muted so as not to damage his eyes further. She had righted herself, now that she was floating in the Vortex, but from what he'd seen of the initial console room damage, it would take time before internal repairs could be made. He came to the console room door, only to find it locked. He pounded softly on it, weakening his meager energy levels substantially, as he realized that the Ship was, indeed, repairing herself. He wouldn't be able to gain entry to the main console room for who knew how long, as the systems reconfigured itself. He turned around and shuffled to his quarters, fully expecting to use the secondary console room for his next journey, once he'd rested.

He'd kept his bedroom sparsely furnished, save for the few priceless items he'd stolen from worlds on various travels. However, they'd all lost their meaning and value, for all he wanted to know was how badly disfigured his face now was. He sensed that complex plastic surgery might be needed for his eye lids, perhaps some skin grafts around his cheeks or forehead which felt hot with never-ending pain, and that his nose had seemed to have 'caved in', requiring further surgery to repair it. That wonderful beard he'd long maintained was probably gone, which had given his last body so much character. He would need to find a way to grow another in time, as he felt it was so much a part of his being.

The Second Master shuffled into the washroom area, his tightly-clenched teeth grimacing from the pain of his burned and charred cloak that had in several parts been melted into his very flesh, and wouldn't be able to be removed except by a specialist. His jaw ached tremendously, feeling as if it was being locked in place with every hissed breath. He turned on the lights in the washroom, and stepped before the mirror above the sink.

He inhaled a shocked, phlegm-filled breath by what he saw.

A hideous, slimy-skinned monstrosity with exposed rictus teeth and impossibly huge, bulging eyes stared back at him from the mirror. It took several seconds for the Master to realize that the reflection was, in fact, his new form. His eyes couldn't blink, or squint, nor could they release tears of anguish as the Master howled and cried out in horror as his new visage burned its reflection into his mind. His jaw could barely open, and he even sported the pitiful remains of his beard, but his vocal chords could still allow him to utter an unspeakably alien howl of anguish that cried out for over a minute, even as his mangled fists pounded and smashed the mirror to pieces, and then took their vengeance on his previously-treasured stolen booty in his room.

'This is the Doctor's fault! Always the Doctor! If he'd interfered less, come to Korilia and talked the idiots out of detonating their nuclear weapons, I never would have been damaged and turned into this wretched monster that I've become! Kill the Doctor! Must kill the Doctor at all costs! !'

The Master hugged himself and silenced his wailing and chaotic thoughts. This partial regeneration was not going well, and he could feel the twinges of insanity growing within his remarkable mind, poisoning his intellect, smothering his genius within veils of animalistic rage and brutality.

'He's only used up three of his lives, while I, his match and superior, have none left! Only this grisly, charred final shape! I'm barely humanoid in form now! So be it! If this is how I shall meet my end, then this form shall be the instrument of the end of the Doctor!' he growled to himself in his panicked, damaged mind.

The Master shuffled off to his console room, wracked with pain from every step, his damaged mind focused solely on revenge, and a final confrontation. He would hunt down the Doctor- that one, the one with the wavy white hair that had flaunted his victories over him time and again, and destroy him, forcing the next regeneration of the Doctor to take place. And as his enemy's new form came into being and settle down, he would destroy that one, too! And so on, killing the Doctor before every regeneration could coalesce into a final shape.

His next destination...UNIT Headquarters!

The planet Moxx, Earth-Year 2488 A.D.:

"I am Star Captain Glentson," the leader of the new arrivals stated with obvious superiority, pulling off her helmet to reveal an average-looking human female of perhaps 50 years of age, if the First Master was any judge. "This is my First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Namer, and my Prime Engineer, Jettar. Our ship is in need of repairs, so we won't be here long," she said, sizing up the Master before adding, "But something tells me that you've been here a while."

"How so?" the Master asked, innocently.

"You say you rule this village and call yourself 'The Master' and yet..." the Star Captain replied, stealing a glance at the alien primitives behind him, "all I see are scores of reptilian cave-men! I would be most interested in learning how a 'human' has come to rule a civilization of lizard-people?"

The Master actually chuckled, maintaining a casual body language, with his hands clasped behind his back, and a glance at the ground. "Ah, perhaps a bit of avarice has slipped into my volcabulary. 'Rule' has such monarchistic connotations. I should think that I am more of a teacher, a guide if you will, to a higher level of civilization for these fine people. My Ship crashed here some months ago, the Moxxites nursed me back to health and in return, I've helped to direct them into a more progressive line of evolution. It's all quite harmless, I should think."

"Really? Master?"

The Master didn't like the way that Glentson was questioning him, so he gently offered his hand to guide her away from her men in an attempt to speak privately to her. Drawing her a few more yards, and out of clear earshot from her men, the Master told her,

"That is correct, Star Captain. I am the Master. I rule these people. I rule all people. Including you and your men. I am the Master...and you will obey me. You will...obey...me!"

Glentson features went blank as his piercing dark eyes blazed into her very soul and into her brain. His tone of voice, his magnetic charisma, and most of all, those bewitching eyes found their way into her mind as easily as a refreshing drink of water. His words were true and she craved more.

"I will...obey you...Master," she found herself replying, and actually looking forward to it.

He finally blinked from his mesmerizing stare, which brought Glentson back to reality, unaware that her mind had just been re-wired by the evil Time Lord. "Repairs, you say? I would appreciate a chance to help, if you should desire it, Star Captain? Indeed, I would even appreciate it if you even allowed me to join your crew, and leave the Moxxites and their world."

"That might be a problem," Glentson admitted. "You see, we're not here by choice. We were fired on by hostile alien race called the Batrans, who have recently begun to challenge or destroy many Earth ships- freighters, liners, whatever they encounter. Whatever it is that they want, the Batrans have advanced closer and closer to Earth, even though IMC is pitching in to supply demand of ships. Although though war hasn't officially been declared, the Batrans refuse to say why they're so intent on attacking Earth. We got shot up by one such Batran vessel, and with luck we'll be able to track it down and catch it before it gets too close to the home-world of the Earth Empire."

It intrigued the Master to the point of obsession. He had to know why the Batrans were suddenly so war-like, considering it was his recollection that they were into star travel strictly for the scientific endeavors it offered.

Glentson led the way into the IMC Poseidon, after the Master told his Moxxite people that he would return shortly.

The planet Earth, 1972 A.D.:

The Second Master fought off the needles and tendrils of encroaching insanity, fully focused on the impending destruction of his do-gooder fellow Time Lord. His enigmatic, refined, austere incarnation of himself was now gone- the neatly-trimmed, saturnine goatee, the powerfully-hypnotic eyes that few could resist, the mind that befuddled the Third Doctor time and again. He would miss that glorious version of himself, but a new incarnation of the Master had been brought into existence, and this form, despite the pain-wracked, shattered body, would be the one to see the death of the Doctor! He could feel it in his irradiated bones!

Materializing in a corridor in UNIT HQ as an out-of-order beverage machine, the Master stealthily disembarked from his disguised TARDIS, apparently in the middle of the night. The lights were lowered to half illumination and the building was as quiet as a morgue. A window showing the outside grounds confirmed that it was very later at night (or very early in the morning), as the other wide was bathed in pitch black. He decided to wander the Headquarters that the Doctor had claimed as his own base of operations, and memorize the layout. There was no telling when he'd need to know his way around again some day.

By the time the first rays of morning had illuminated the fields and parking lots outside, the Master had already murdered four guards that had stumbled upon his presence.

The planet Moxx, Earth-year 2488 A.D.:

The First Master proved to Star Captain Glentson that he was a valuable technician that was able to help Engineer Jettar fix the ship's engines. In fact, Jettar was a little surprised that Glentson had given the Master full run of the ship, including access to the IMC ship's computer to get full data on Batran encounters. He leaned over the Master's shoulder, and forcefully swung him around to face him. As tough-looking as Jettar was, he actually felt a twinge of regret or dread in doing so, after he experienced the livid, hostile glare of the Master burning into his face.

"You don't need to be lookin' at such data, mister!" Jettar said, sounding less intimidating than he felt, and more like an effete scolding school teacher.

The Master never broke his stare at Jettar and replied with barely controlled rage as he gradually stood up until he was eye-to-eye with the engineer, "Indeed? I am not used to being ordered around like a commoner. No one orders the Master. Do you understand? None shall order the Master. I am the Master of all. And you will obey me. Obey my commands, Jettar."

"I will...obey you, Master," the helpless Jettar assured, his mouth slack, his expression one of expectation, begging to be commanded and given a reason to live.

"Very good. Now tell me...why is Earth of such interest to the Batrans when solar systems richer in raw materials and prime for colonization lie in the opposite direction? What do you know? What rumors are you in possession of?"

Once he'd gotten more information, the Master commanded Jettar to get some men to form a loading party to bring his TARDIS aboard the Poseidon, then had the hypnotized ship captain bring the IMC vessel on an intercept course to head off the Batrans, his plans to manipulate the Moxxites and the Doctor abandoned for now.

The planet Earth, 1963 A.D.:

The Third Master and Briggs arrived at the infamous Area 51, with their TARDIS materializing in a wide underground tunnel, and taking the form of a storage crate. Whatever it was that the Master's tracking device had locked onto, it was definitely alien technology, and that made it worth investigating, and most likely, stealing. The tunnel was wide enough for small jeep-like carts to travel through, and doors were few and far between, offering little more than a series of coded numbers and letters to state what was behind them. The Master snickered softly to himself, easily deducing the codes after the third door label.

"Chilly," Briggs frowned, rubbing his bare arms. He'd exited the Ship in little more than a black AC/DC t-shirt, scuffed denim blue jeans and Doc Martens, and rare was the time that the Master bothered to suggest he cloth himself suitably. He shouldered his empty duffel bag, hoping to gain some useful alien tech or valuables while they were here.

"Indeed. We're underground- some two point five miles beneath the surface to be exact. The question is...is this the state of their life support systems down here...or does something here need to be kept cool?"

"Computers need constant cool air," Briggs offered.

The Master nodded, looking about distracted. "And other things, inanimate...and alive. Come this way."

Intent on first identifying the energy source and then ransacking the place, the Master led the way, his trusty Tissue Compression Eliminator in hand as he and Briggs quietly ventured deeper into the facility. He removed a small pen-like device from an inside pocket in his jet-black top coat, and aimed it at every camera in sight, deactivating all security measures as they went along.

It took some of the fun out of it for Briggs, who was eager to kill whomever got in their way, but it wasn't long before an unexpected witness to their presence exited a door that they'd just passed. Briggs was ready for it, yanking out a laser-disc from the duffel bag and firing it in one smooth motion. The beam struck the white lab-coated man in the forehead, dropping him on the spot, the cold empty floor of Area 51 his final resting place.

Briggs looked to the Master for approval and got it, as he said, "It's refreshing to be around a human that likes to kill and ask few questions. Good work."

The human nodded with a smile as if he'd just been given a trophy, and followed the Master towards a door that the Time Lord aimed his sensor device at. "This isn't what we're looking for, but let's investigate, shall we?"

The Master used his sensor device as a lock picker, and entered the small dimly-lit room cautiously. An eerie humming and luminous green light escaped the sound-proofed, heavily-shielded room which appeared to be a bunker for something very dangerous.

"What is it?" Briggs asked, not stepping inside, as he noticed that the Master hadn't done so, either.

"A photon bomb in an alien stasis field. It's locked out of time-phase, but will explode if it ever enters this time stream, taking all of Area 51 and possibly the entirety of the State of Nevada with it."

"Holy hell! What're they doing with a bomb that powerful! In 1963?"

The Master shrugged. "Found aboard a space/time vessel of alien origin, I should think, considering their archaic, minimal space travel capabilities at this time. Someone or something found it in the Vortex and it wound up here"

"And it'll go off if it ever enters this time stream?"

"Yes. Delightful, don't you think?"

The Master enjoyed the pale-faced squeamishness on Briggs face, since it told him that his violent human companion had some element of common sense inside him, at least. The Time Lord gently closed and locked the door, and paused momentarily as a memory came back to him. An eyebrow rose, unseen by Briggs, as he realized that he might have been responsible for it being here.

The planet Earth, 1972 A.D.:

Morning arrived with the deceiving amount of cheerful bird song and bright blue skies, offering the complete opposite of the vicious, dark emotions of the Second Master. He'd searched for the Doctor and his TARDIS, but instead located nothing more than administrative offices and a few labs, until he approached a men's washroom, and out came Sergeant Benton. He was just finishing combing his hair when his eyes bugged out at the surprising sight before him- an obvious intruder, clothed in a a charred hood and cloak, and serious physical damage to his face and hands. Benton's hand was on his sidearm instantly, but the Master was faster, lunging at the UNIT soldier with disfigured, bloated hands. The pain was mind-wrenching for the Master, as his body desperately required medical treatment, not a wrestling match, but he had to ensure his anonymity.

The two men fought, with Benton's military training beginning to gain the upper hand as he tried to twist the intruder's arm, behind him, or trip him up so that he could land on top of him, but the mutilated man was an insane powerhouse, growling and snarling like an animal. Benton managed to retrieve his gun, but the strength of the monster-man was formidable, and nearly broke his wrist as he smashed his hand again and again on the porcelain drinking fountain, finally forcing him to drop his weapon. He started to call out for reinforcements, but the Master's fist found its target and made Benton see stars. Finally, the disfigured Time Lord used his momentum and body weight to force Benton against the wall, where he rammed Benton's head against it, bloodying him, and allowing him to jab at a specific nerve cluster in the UNIT soldier's neck. Knocked out, he prepared to kill Benton by breaking his neck, only to be stopped by Jo Grant.

Jo had just arrived for work, and was unprepared for the terrifying creature before her. She screamed out in fright and repulsion, instinctively curling up against the wall with her hands held outward in defense, as the Master lunged for her. "Silence, girl! I won't hesitate to end your life if you call for help!" he snarled, dragging her into a nearby outer room, and then into the adjoining lab where the Doctor worked. He shoved her into a chair, where the petrified Jo stared up at him in wide-eyed horror, unable to look away from the disfigured man-creature before her, even though she wanted to forget ever laying eyes on the abomination.

"What's the matter, Miss Grant? Unable to offer a friendly 'hello' to an old acquaintance?" the Master growled through gritting, exposed teeth, still becoming accustomed to speaking in a new, damaged voice.

"What...what're you...talking about?" Jo asked in a little voice.

"Have I changed that much since our last encounter? OF-COURSE-I-!" he shouted, until he cut off a sudden manical rage of emotion. "Yes, I have changed. And not for the better, is it? No, I think not. Would that this could have happened to your accursed Doctor, but nooo! It happened to me! The Master!"

His identity revealed to Jo, she only stared back at him, incredulous, mouth agape, unable to believe him. "How did it happen, then? An accident? Of course, dumb question...sorry."

"'Sorry'? Sorry? Sorrrrryyy? Keep your pathetic human pity to yourself, girl! I'll have none of it! I'm here for one reason, and one reason alone- I want to see the Doctor! NOW!"

"But...but he's not even here! He's out of the country attending a scientific conference!"

"LIAR!"

"It's true!" Jo shouted back, defiant.

"Where?"

Jo hesitated and found an ounce of courage inside her, somehow. "I won't say where. But one look at you and I'm positive that the Doctor will help you! There must be something in his TARDIS to help you and cure you of this!"

"I don't want his helllp!" the Master wailed, his bulging, unblinking eyes trying to release tears of anguish, only to find tear ducts seared shut. "I want to kill hiiiim! At the very least, reduced to the smouldering, radioactive heap of flesh that I've been reduced to!"

He stalked her like a hungry jungle cat sizing up its prey, making Jo tremble from the impossible disfigurements the Master sported, then jerked back with a lurch as he shoved his face towards hers as he fell to his knees, clutched her arms tightly, and growled out,

"I am the Master. You will obey me. Do you understand? You...will...obey...me! I am the Master! Say that you will obey me!"

Jo's trembling was felt even by the Master's bloated hands, and his equally-bloated, expansive eyes could see the fear in her face...and her own self control of her faculties.

"Wh-what's the matter, Master? Los-losing your touch?" she asked, trying to sound brave.

"ARRGGH!" the Master growled, standing up quickly and feeling a shooting pain run down his spine at the same time as realization hit him. His formidable powers of hypnotism no longer worked since he was too disfigured. The eyes and voice that had mesmerized hundreds during his previous life, were too dissimilar now, and were capable of little more than repulse. "You'll simply have to suffice as my hostage then, Miss Grant. Come this way."

She had little choice, as his iron grip on her forearm showed that he had control over her, which became evident as a pair of UNIT soldiers met up with him down a corridor, but a threat to kill Jo was enough for them to lower their weapons, keeping the soldiers away long enough for the two of them to enter his TARDIS.

"You might want that aggravating Brigadier of yours to retrieve the Doctor from wherever he is! Tell him the Master has returned!" He shoved Jo through the doors of his TARDIS, and gave her another jolt that made her bump against his central control console. He slowly shuffled over to her, breathing heavily from his exertion and the pain that coursed through his every cell.

"Now we wait. A threat to your life, Miss Grant, and the Doctor will come grovelling to me."

The soldiers found a drowsy Benton on the floor, and he in turn told the Brigadier what happened, who immediately called for Doctor to return immediately from the science meeting in Sweden.

IMC Poseidon in deep space, Earth-year 2488 A.D.:

The First Master strolled around the bridge of the IMC Poseidon like he owned it- which wasn't far from the truth as he 'owned' Captain Glentson's mind and neither gave any indication that a secret mind-controlled alliance existed between them. With its engines repaired, the Earth ship easily caught up with the Batran vessel which was on a direct heading towards Earth. Establishing contact, the Master spoke into a microphone.

"I humbly request permission to visit your ship as an independent entity, under truce. I am neither a representative of the planet Earth, nor a provocateur. I merely wish to speak to the Batran ship commander. All I ask is five minutes. Will you grant me permission to come aboard?"

A growling, gritty voice replied over the speaker, "Permissionnn granted. Come alonnne."

Captain Glentson stood up from her command chair and appeared ready to join him, but the Master held up a hand. "Unnecessary, Captain. I intend to follow their instructions."

"At least let me arm you with a weapon?"

The Master smirked behind his salt and pepper beard, the very essence of confidence. "I have all the weaponry I need right here!" he told her, tapping his forehead, before entering the lift.

The starships were docked via a similar linking system, namely a pair of compatible adjustable tunnels, but the difference between the two vessels was obvious. Whereas the human ship possessed a welcoming atmosphere and comfortable temperature, the Batran ship's air was thick with humidity, bathed in blood-red lighting, and offered the intimidating greeting party of six Batrans. Their uniforms were all pomp and circumstance, embroidered with militaristic medals and belts and holsters for numerous weapons and equipment, the majority of their body's covered in modular armour plating, covering their orange-colored flesh up to their chins. The Batran head was larger than the human's head in that the forehead was almost two inches higher and hairless, and their ears were little more than floppy, fleshy organs that might have once been pointed. Whatever point in time these Batrans existed from his knowledge of them, they had seemingly evolved into a warrior status from their previous peaceful, scientific counterparts of long ago.

"Identify...and speak," the leader of the party instructed, looking down somewhat on the black-clad visitor.

With his leather-gloved hands held out and clasped before himself, he said, "I am the Master. I am not a part of the crew of this IMC ship, and as such I don't care what you want to do to them. I only ask a small favor. What interests you so with the planet Earth? Have one of their kind crossed you and now you seek revenge? Have you visited their world, only to be treated as an invader and now you want to rescue your people?"

The Batrans looked amongst themselves, but didn't seem impressed. The leader stepped forward, using his height to tower over the Master as he snarled, "Little humannn. Too many questions, when the answer is already knownnn."

The Master was about to ask a further question when he was forcibly grabbed by the leader and thrown at a pair of Batrans. They grabbed his arms in vice-like gloved hands, and used their weight to force him to his knees. He yelped slightly, indignant and furious with himself for showing a moment of weakness before their loathsome animals, when the leader ordered,

"Crush his head."

"WAAAIT!" the Master shouted, halting his execution. "I've already told you that I don't belong to this crew! I'll even assist in your killing them, in return for information! Just tell me why you persist in fighting your way into the Earth Empire?"

The Batrans didn't release him and waited for their leader's response. He bent down and in a sarcastic tone that made it seem like he was calling the Master's bluff, said, "We claim property that is on Earth, and we demand its return, but Earthers are denying knowledge of it. For that, they shall feel the Batran wrath." He stood up, backed up and gave a nod to the soldier to the left.

The soldier nodded back, and used the power of his enhanced armor to break the Master's arm, making the Time Lord cry out in a stifled yelp, which he submerged beneath gritting teeth. The Batrans forced him to his feet and shoved him back into the airlock link, where he slumped momentarily, then regained his posture. He returned their hostile glares with a dignified bow and turned around back into the Poseidon, his mind racing from plans and agony, almost pitying the Batrans for not realizing that they'd just gained a new enemy.

'Once this affair is over, I shall make my presence known across their puny planet and reduce it to a lifeless dust ball!' the Master thought to himself.

The planet Earth, 1963 A.D.:

The Third Master and Briggs continued to explore other sections of Area 51 and found artefacts that could only have been forged by alien hands. In a storage/examination room, Briggs picked up a black metal tube with a broken glass bulb on the end of it. It looked quite old and had apparently been unearthed, if the scratches and dents on its body were any indication. A single knob was rusted away, permanently sealed in its present position.

Briggs snickered, "Hey, Master! Abracadra! Look at me! I'm a magician!"

The Master's eyes lit up from concern, and he yanked the object out of Briggs' hand as the foolish human waved it around and tapped it against a box. "Don't be foolish! Don't you realize what this is?"

Briggs almost blushed, instead replying, "No. What is it?"

The Master examined it, and gently placed it back into its storage box. "A Sontaran energy gun. It could be used to kill, hypnotize, drill., and a half dozen other uses Quite useful in its day." He paused before looking around some more to muse, "Interesting. Judging by the age of it a Sontaran must have visited Earth centuries ago."

"This looks interesting," Briggs suggested, this time not picking up the object of interest from its glass container. The Master joined him and released a derisive, 'Tsk!'. "What?"

"If you find a Mogarian wristwatch that fascinating, then you might want to try thinking bigger!"

Briggs frowned as he looked at the face of the alien watch that had been damaged apparently in a fire and had most of the wristband burned off. It had as many buttons on it as one of those cool Casio wristwatch/calculators he'd seen in the past, but it pissed him off that he thought it might be something cool like a bomb detonator or sub-space communicator or whatever. He watched as the Master stalked around the room, 'hmming' and softly chuckling to himself in that 'pitiful fool' tone of voice.

'I guess I can't blame him- he probably has a shopping mall's worth of formidable weapons in that TARDIS of his, and not much could impress him!'

Then it was Briggs' turn for his eyes to light up as he hurried over to a table and ran his fingers across a four-foot long object that looked like a cross between an air conditioner, guitar case, and a bazooka. It was gun metal gray, possessed chunky lines, angles, and buttons, and even just lying on a table looked like it could kill a platoon of men in seconds.

He had to pick it up!

Expecting to have trouble with an object that looked like it should weigh a good two hundred pounds, Briggs' eyes widened as he lifted the weapon like it was made of cardboard! And yet, as he ran his free hand across its angular frame, he was definitely touching metal!

"Master! Look!"

The Master turned around, and gritted his teeth in silent exasperation. "I told you not to touch anything!"

"You told me not to fool around with the Sontaran wand gun. But check it out! How's it possible I can lift this thing! It should weight more than me!"

"Unlike the Sontaran gun, that weapon looks like it's still functional! Put-it-down!" Briggs did so. "Obviously it's a product of race from a world with a substantial difference in planetary gravity. It's quite likely heavy to them, and as such, a heavy-duty weapon can still dispense heavy duty damage to a target, despite the gravitational difference!"

"Why don't we bring it along with us? For future...*ahem!*...'endeavors?" the human asked, with a knowing glint in his eye.

"I prefer to travel light. What I'm searching for isn't here. Come along."

The Master held out his scanner before him and led the way out of the room, unaware that Briggs quickly scooped up three random objects from their cases and dumped them in his duffel bag.

There was no telling when they might come in handy.

The Second Master's TARDIS, 1972 A.D.:

Jo was slowly becoming used to the Second Master's grotesque features, much as it surprised her. Then again, she chalked it up as the same way that she would feel sorry for a burn victim, who was still a human being underneath their damaged flesh. For all the Master had put them through recently, even he didn't deserve this horrible fate, as far as she was concerned.

"Look, I'm sure the Doctor can help you! There's no need for all this grandstanding and hunger for revenge! I mean, look where it's gotten you!"

The Master swung about to glare at her with his unblinking, bulging, glistening eyes, and even with facial muscles that were burned and frozen in position, Jo could sense that same harsh, hostile glare that the old Master had shot at her in past times.

"Help...meee?" he growled, almost turning it into an uncontrolled cackle before he stopped himself. 'Never! Our time to talk is long over, Miss Grant! All I can feel in my destroyed body is a renewed hunger for revenge! I don't want your pathetic pity nor your forgiveness! Both mean nothing to me."

Jo looked about the TARDIS control room, and noted that it looked generally like the Doctor's but was painted black in certain sections and along the wall, as opposed to the off-white of the Doctor's time machine. A big television screen built into the wall displayed a live image of the outside, showing Sergeant Benton and another UNIT soldier standing guard, looking like they were ready to shoot to kill if the Master dared poke his head outside his door. Then she looked closer to her surroundings and stared wide-eyed at the damage that had apparently been inflicted within the room, as if the fire that had mutilated the Master had happened here. But how long ago was the fire? It looked like the console room had undergone some repairs, but if that was the case had the Master performed the repairs while in this burned, decrepit form? Her thoughts were interrupted as the screen showed that the Brigadier had returned.

"Listen to me, Master! Can you hear me?"

The Master stood before his console and leaned on it, but didn't touch any controls, apparently already having the line open as he replied, breathlessly, "I'm...here, Brigadier. Hand over the Doctor!"

"That's just it," the Brig told him. "As Miss Grant has told you, the Doctor is out of the country and won't arrive here for another 3 hours. Therefore I wish to make a counter-offer. I offer myself as a replacement hostage in exchange for Jo."

The Master flatly refused, saying, "I don't trust you, Lethbridge-Stewart, for a second! I won't play your games, considering that you come in a poor second as far as hostages to use against the Doctor are concerned! So long as Miss Grant doesn't try anything foolish...she'll live to see the Doctor. After that..."

He let the threat hang in the air, and shut off the communications system. Whatever Lethbridge-Stewart was saying on the television screen was silent, and then it, too, was deactivated, sealing Jo's view off from the outside world. The Master grunted and shuffled as he pulled up a chair and fell back into it with a stifled jab of pain. Jo leaped to him a few feet to offer help, but he swung an arm in an arc to hold her back and growled at her like a rabid dog.

IMC Poseidon in deep space, Earth-year 2488 A.D.:

Star Captain Glentson had maneuvered her ship, after disengaging the airlock link, in front of the alien war ship, forcing the IMC ship and Batran ship into stare down, neither willing to back down. She was furious that the Batrans had harmed the Master, who was brought directly to sickbay to tend his injuries. Taking a cue from recent events the IMC captain called a nearby base for reinforcements. The Batrans did likewise, seemingly tapping into their message.

The doctor on the Poseidon was an overweight, aged man that was efficient, if not a little nosey as he used the high-tech computers and healing beams of the IMC ship to heal the Master's broken arm. The Time Lord was reclined on a comfortable, full-body bed, glaring lights focused down upon him as a fluttering green beam ran back and forth across his exposed left arm. Painkillers had been administered to the Master before treatment, so the repairs to his broken radius and ulna were little more than shining lights and humming equipment. The treatment was nearly completed when the nosey doctor spoke his mind.

"If you don't mind my saying so, sir...what planet are you from?"

The Master's eyes became hooded and he lowered his voice, replying, "What are you referring to, Doctor?"

The older gentleman nodded at an x-ray display screen that showed the Master's skeleton alongside various view screens displaying his internal organ structure.

"In all my years of space medicine I've never encountered a being with two hearts! You're not human, are you?"

Not wishing to complicate his time aboard the IMC ship, the Master wasted no time in hypnotizing the ship's doctor into forgetting about his alien physiognomy. Then he picked his brain to find out where the IMC crew would have stored his TARDIS. Once there, he set about his goal to discover what 'property ' of the Batrans was on Earth, so he used his TARDIS computer to hack into Batran ship computer and activated the self-destruct system. Then he made contact.

"I am the Master, and you can consider this my repayment for the injuries you dared to inflict upon me! Captain, if you check your engine status you'll see that they've been set to overload by an encrypted self-destruct order! Don't bother trying to shut it off- your puny, primitive attempts to stop it aren't worth your time. My Time Lord skills make your so-called intelligence look like a worm's by comparison. So here are my conditions; I'll cancel the destruct order if, and only if, you reveal to me just what this important property of yours is that you want back so desperately?"

"Lock alll weaponnns on him!" the alien captain ordered.

The Master chuckled to himself as an officer reported all weapons had been disabled, leaving them completely powerless. "Are you going to talk to me now?"

They refused and watched as the clock began to count down from five minutes on their control consoles. Orders were barked out by the alien captain, even as the Master smiled at their useless attempts to stop the count-down. Four minutes...three minutes...two minutes! He had to hand it to them- there Batrans were a stubborn brood! However, he wasn't bluffing when he told them that their efforts would be wasted, so at one minute 14 seconds they agreed to tell him.

"Very well. Elaborate, if you please, but be quick about it."

"Disengage the self-destruct...and thennn I will-"

The Master interrupted the Batran captain with a casual, "One minute...59 seconds...58..."

"Disengage, or I won't-!"

"...55...54...53..."

"Stop it, stop it!" the Batran pleaded, devoid of any courage or intimidation now. "Feedback from a Batran Transporter Gateway has poisoned the Batran's home-world! A scout ship deposited a Gate on the planet Earth centuries ago for future exploration, but a feed-back distortion was activated long ago and we've been unable to prevent harmful Vortex radiation from contaminating our world! The Gate must be destroyed at the source, and we didn't trust the humans enough to shut it off themselves and not use it against us! Now, please- deactivate the self-destruct system!"

"Thank you, Captain, for that very valuable data. Oh, and there's just one thing you must understand about me...'

"For the love of God what is it?'

The Master smiled devilishly at the Batran and said, "I do so enjoy a good lie!"

Even as the Batran ship's destruct system engaged and began to blow it up section by section, they wouldn't die alone, so they fired upon the IMC ship, ripping it apart. On the Poseidon's bridge, Glentson ordered returned fire. They both exploded like twin suns that were impossibly close to one another, debris and torn and shattered iron, steel and conduits exploding outward like a fiery, galactic pair of flowers, leaving an unscathed, slowing spinning object remaining.

The Master's TARDIS.

He got to work tracing this so-called Vortex radiation from Earth to Batra, when an alarm signalled his attention.

A time-phased Photon Bomb had adhered to his time machine and was set to detonate in mere seconds!

And unfortunately for the Master, it wouldn't come loose!

The planet Earth, 1963 A.D.:

The Third Master and Briggs had finally located that one very special object that he'd been drawn to all this time- the Batran Trans-Gate. This is what was registering and not the photon bomb, according to his sensor device. He and Briggs circled it, Briggs merely examining it with trepidation and a little interest, as the Master used his scanning device. The Gate was about nine feet tall, and basically an elongated pyramidal shape. Chunky control units and mechanisms lined its surface on three sides, while the fourth possessed a wall that seemed to be solid, until one focused their eyes on it, then it seemed ethereal, as if as empty as blueish-gray fog.

"It's been building power for years," the Time Lord mused. "probably from the human's- rather, the Area 51 personnel's bumbling testing and blind ignorance."

"So, what is it?" Briggs wanted to know.

"A time portal. A transference machine of alien design."

"That thing's a TARDIS?" Briggs asked, sounding sceptical.

"Not nearly as sophisticated. A crude, simplistic version. More of an interstellar transporter, really. Only useful if it's linked to a counterpart somewhere else."

"But you can travel in time with it?"

"Only on the most basic level, Briggs. For example, let us hypothesize that this transporter is linked to a planet 100 light years away. It wouldn't take you 100 years to travel there with this device- you could have arrived on the other planet on this very day in 1963, and not 2063. It was designed to bend space, as well, by making instantaneous arrival possible. However, this device is now linked to a similar reception point in the year 2488. For that, they're using the Time Vortex, itself."

"Who is?"

The Master shook his head, then a flicker of a memory came back to him. Briggs watched as he saw enlightenment come over the Master's pale features, as realization dawned on him and more information than he expected.

"I wonder...? Could this be the device that brought me...? Is it time now for me to meet...?"

"What? Whaaat?" Briggs asked, but didn't get an answer.

The Master began to examine and touch the controls on the Batran Trans-Gate, which unnerved Briggs since he wasn't sure if the Master even knew what he was doing. The next bit of news proved that he did, and it probably would have been better if he hadn't told him it.

"This device is on full power- it has been for quite some time. And as such, it's now in danger of overloading."

"Then shut it off!"

"I can't. And as it's somewhat out of control, it could take Earth with it, sucking it into the Time Vortex, since the Trans-Gate has time travel principles.

Briggs practically shouted, "You have to shut it off so Earth will live!"

However, the Master hesitated as he considered this, his eyes darkening as he found his ultimate revenge taunting him.

'It's 1963, over a decade before my former self's run-ins with the Doctor and UNIT. From my own point of view I've had encounters with the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Doctors. If Earth dies now, might I cease to exist in this form? What effect would it have on my time-line, my former incarnations, if the Doctor is destroyed before his time? Then again, Time might re-set itself, and I could be transported to the incarnation of myself prior to that wretched, disfigured version of myself, and might even be able to prevent it from ever happening.'

Briggs began to fear the Master at that point, as the Time Lord stood by idly and considered his options.

Suddenly an alarm sounded and the reinforced doors of the room began to be battered repeatedly from the outside as soldiers of Area 51's security forces began to try and break down the doors, making Briggs panic even more.

The planet Earth, 1972 A.D.:

The Second Master had recovered some of his strength and his usual bravado as his viewscreen displayed the arrival of the Doctor, looking all concerned and determined, dressed in a purple velour smoking jacket and ruffled shirt this time. It was the white-haired Third version, much to the Master's pleasure. He clicked on the communications system again to

taunt the Doctor and Brigadier.

"As you know, I have Miss Grant in my Ship, Doctor! You might want to dash over to your own TARDIS and give chase- if you ever want to see her alive again!"

"WAIT!" the Doctor shouted, even as ancient engines grinded and wheezed as the Time Capsule dematerialized.

The Doctor, Brigadier, and Benton all looked amongst each other, helplessly, unseen by the Master.

Luckily, the evil Time Lord was monitoring the Vortex for the Doctor's TARDIS, or else he would have flown even deeper into the Vortex, and raced away, forcing the Doctor to give chase but never catch up.

"What is this madness?" the Master growled, as he monitored his controls. "He's not following? He must! He must! He knows you're my hostage! What is he waiting for? Is this some kind of trick?"

Jo couldn't help but begin to tremble as she lost all hope and feared what might become of her. When she found her voice, she wiped away a fear of tear from one eye and told him in a soft voice, "Unfortunately, as much as the Doctor wants to follow...he can't!"

"WHYYY?" the Master screamed, spinning around and making her flinch from the hot breath and fear that it was her fault.

"Be- because his sentence of exile on Earth hasn't been lifted by the Time Lords! They won't allow him to give chase, let alone travel anywhere in time and space. He's still marooned on Earth, remember?"

The Master stared long and hard at her- not difficult, when one's eyes could no longer blink. Then his breath became ragged and stuttered, making her believe he was gasping for air. Instead, it was a maniacal, pitying laughter that crossed the line into madness. "The D-Doctor's...still...innn ex-exillle! HehehHEHEHEHheeeheee! I've arrived...toooo soooon for him to fffollowww! HeheheheHEEHEEEE! My owwwn incompetence has doomed meeeeaaahaaHAAAHAHHAAHAAA!"

The Master's uncontrolled giggles mutated then into wails of anguish and frustration as he pounded his control console, picked up his chair and flung it across the room, making Jo yelp and run to the opposite side of the black-hued room.

"WWHHHHYYYYYYY? WWWHHYYYWHYWHYWHYWHY?" the Master cried out to the ceiling to whatever evil God he worshipped, before slumping over his console.

Jo begged for release, but was ignored as his console located a time transference beam that led from one point in time from Earth to a planet called 'Batra'. At first he believed it was the machinations of the Doctor, somehow finding a way to escape Earth and rescue his companion, but he wasn't so sure as the time indicator registered the Earth year of 1963 as one side. Working his controls, he told Jo,

"I'm going to intercept that transference beam. If the Doctor is on Batra, we'll have our final showdown. However, if he's in the past of this time stream in 1963, I can destroy this time-line, and prevent this hideous disfiguration from ever happening!"

The First Master's TARDIS, Earth-year ?:

The First Master worked his console controls like the master of them that he was, and managed to displace the bomb within the Time Vortex ('And pity the poor soul that rams his timemachine into it...Doctor!'). It would float in the Vortex forever, or until struck by a passing craft or drawn into normal Time by someone other than he. For now, he was tracking a transference beam that was getting stronger the more he focused his TARDIS upon it, noting that it linked Batra, as said. Strangely enough on the end that was linked to Earth, it was residing in 1963, and not 2488.

He paused as he considered which end of the Gate to visit...

The planet Earth, 1963 A.D.:

Briggs wanted to know the Third Master's plan, stopping just short of yanking him around and sticking his face into the Time Lord's, which wouldn't get him very far- just very dead! Coupled with wanting to leave, since the soldiers banging against the doors would lock them up if they found them in this room, the Master's attitude was rubbing the human the wrong way, big time!

The Master clicked his tongue in impatience and shoved his Tissue Compression Eliminator into his companion's hand, snarling, "Then, use this if you're so afraid! Stop bothering me while I decide what to do."

Briggs momentarily considered using it on the Master from behind, but instead covered the door that was being bashed at from the other side.

Unknown to Briggs, the Master was well aware of his companion's near-treacherous act, and released an imperceptible sigh of relief that Briggs had done the right thing. It had been incredibly foolish to put that much power into a mere human's hands.

Larry Briggs felt supremely confident with the Master's main weapon in his hand, and was looking forward to using it for the first time, himself, excited by the power of life or death over the shouting security forces, which would instantaneously be reduced to tiny, six-inch (dead) versions of themselves, once the T.C.E. beam struck them. His eagerness at the impending mass deaths of the soldiers was suddenly interrupted by the unmistakable whining and grinding of a TARDIS taking form within the Area 51 lab.

"My Eliminator! Give it to me!"

Briggs acted on instinct, and tossed the shrinking-weapon at the master, even as a shape began to solidify against the far wall, several yards away from the Batran Trans-Gate. He was positive that their enemy, the Doctor, had arrived on the scene, but one look at the Master and a dozen questions entered the human's mind. The Time Lord seemed to lose his guard, lowering his weapon, but still kept his eyes locked onto the final form of the Doctor's TARDIS.

A computer console sporting magnetic tapes and loads of buttons.

One side opened with a creak, exposing an unseen door.

A figure cautiously stepped out.

"Kill hiiiim!" Briggs shouted, panicked.

The Master 's tense features softened into a smirk, and his shoulders dropped with the comfort of someone meeting an old friend.

"Now, why would I do that to myself, Briggs?" the Master chuckled.

The First Master stood before his TARDIS, frowning at the murderous human and his goateed friend in the deep black outfit.

Something told him that this bearded man wasn't the Doctor...

The planet Batra, Earth-year 2488 A.D.

The Second Master and Jo arrived in a ruined, underground bunker. At least, it had been underground at one time, if the open sky fifty feet above their heads was any indication. Burn marks and charred, chipped walls of man-made construction, as well as the very ground itself, surrounded them, as if a great explosion had taken place centuries ago, somehow finding its way up and out onto the surface of Batra. The Master used a multi-purpose scanner, reading the sensor readings and mumbling out loud.

"We're all alone here...except for mutated rats and snakes. Radiation is high, but livable for a short time. Not that it should matter to me...in this form. You, however, Miss Grant...huh. I hope you enjoy your genetic mutations and the poisons in your body that prolonged exposure to this Batran Trans-Gate will provide you."

The Master wandered over to the pyramidal device, noting that it was still alive and softly thrumming with power, one side displaying an ethereal entry point that at times appeared solid and others not. He was pretty sure his bulging, disfigured eyeballs weren't tricking him.

"What do you mean...'genetic mutat-'"

"Quiet, girl, I'm busy!" the Master growled as he checked and double-checked his scanner. He looked up at the tall object and said, "I'm picking up an increase in power. Just one point seven percent, but... Why is it doing that? Because of our proximity to it?"

Jo didn't like the looks of things, from an architectural stand point and from her own personal safety angle. The Doctor was as trapped as ever back on Earth, and wouldn't be able to follow them. Could he get permission from the Time Lords to affect a rescue? Unlikely. An exile was an exile, and they'd only had a few off-world trips, courtesy of the Time Lords, to solve an important galactic problem. Still, one of those problems involved the Master posing as an Adjudicator on the colony planet, Lostrella, so why not now? And as for this planet, well, they couldn't see the surface from here, but the frightening dead silence from up above, with its harsh yellowish-gray clouds and the evidence of the explosion from the Trans-Gate that had poisoned the world of Batra around them, well...

Without warning the gate activated itself before the Master's eyes.

Armed with his Tissue Compression Eliminator, he stepped back from it and awaited the arrival of...who?

The planet Earth, 1963 A.D.:

"I am the Master," the First Master announced, standing regally and confident in his black suit, his leather-gloved hands clasped before him like a shield.

"Yes, we certainly are!" the Third Master smiled, allowing the last word to evolve into a soft chuckle. "May I introduce our companion, a Mister Lawrence Briggs of the planet Earth?"

"Don't call me that! I hate my name! I'm just 'Briggs'!" the human snarled, indignant, off to one side.

The dark eyes of the First Master glared at the criminally-auraed human momentarily, before his mind played back the confusing First Person terminology of this strange man in the blackest of black costumes. The confident smirk, the neatly-trimmed goatee, the rigid posture...it all seemed familiar.

Too familiar...

The First Master's hard stare melted into one of curiosity and restrained curiosity, but the Third Master had seen (and felt it) all before. The First Master approached him slowly, offering a short glance at the human, Briggs, to be sure he wouldn't be ambushed from behind, before focusing his full attention on the dominant figure in the room. As he and the other man circled slowly around one another like a pair of opponents in a cage match, the First master stared hard at the facial features, his Gallifreyan mind turning back the clock, piercing into a realm that humans couldn't imagine as he sought to identify the man before him- a man that wore a different face- many different faces in the past.

The Third Master's chin rose, and he struck a dignified, if pretentious pose for his predecessor. "Incredible!" the First Master murmured, his dark eyes lighting up with dark glints, as realization dawned on him, and he allowed himself a few seconds to display an emotion foreign to him- shock. "I never believed I would cross paths with you...or my other selves!"

The Third Master clicked his heels and offered a small bow, his slicked-back black hair catching the light above him like an evil halo. "While I on the other hand had the vaguest, buried memories of such an encounter! I just didn't know when."

"Fascinating," the First Master nodded, offering his own cautious smile as he paced around the Third Master, checking him up and down as a young man would an image of his older, adult self, noting with pleasure that he would one day be younger, seemingly fit, a couple inches taller, and joined by a...

...human?

"And what would make you believe that we needed the likes of...him?" the First Master growled, his temperament darkening at the thought of needing 'help'.

"Oh, you'll discover they have their uses- the bloodthirsty ones at least, with regards to our strategies and plans. Briggs has proven himself time and again to me. He's more than willing to kill for us."

"Pshaw!" the First Master snorted. "In my time I didn't need murderers to accomplish my tasks!"

"In your time, you employed buffoons like Trenchard and Oogrons with an I.Q. of 42! And where did it get you? Defeat after defeat at the hands of the Doctor!" the Third Master taunted, making his companion grin and his predecessor scowl. "And even worse, the Doctor was aided by mere females like Miss Grant and Miss Shaw in your time! And you still went down in flames! Eh... figuratively speaking, of course."

The First Master's eyes squinted with annoyance, countering with, "Sheer luck on the Doctor's part! And he always had the numbers on his side, especially with that wretched UNIT bunch to back him up!"

"A predicament that I, logically, avoided, of course," the Third Master bragged, looking away to emphasize that UNIT wasn't worth his attention.

"Is the Doctor dead?" the First Master asked, point-blank.

The Third Master's confident stance teetered as he admitted, "Unequivocally? Not yet. However, he has regen-"

"How is that possible? Have you wasted our time picking up Earth worms like this-"

"Heyyy!' Briggs whined, indignant.

"-when you should have been removing the Doctor as a threat to our plans? Or are you just...a coward?"

The Third Master bristled at the accusation, his good mood shattered, and suddenly feeling hatred for this incarnation of himself. Still, he focused his attention on his problem at hand and looked over at his assistant.

"Briggs? As you'll recall we located this Trans-Gate and it linked itself with a planet called Batra." He faced his older self. "Did you by chance note this as you landed here?"

"I did. In fact, I travelled to this end of the Trans-Gate beam, thinking that the Doctor was on this side."

The Third Master began to recall slivers and shards of past events and beckoned Briggs over to him. The human complied, but didn't like the way his 'friend' grabbed him by the shoulders in a strong grip, and lined him up with the semi-clear side of the Batrans Trans-Gate.

"I need you to do a quick favor for me. I need you to bring back our other self."

"What do you mean...'other self'?" Briggs wondered aloud, a second before he was pushed into the Gate, and instantaneously transported across time and space.

The planet Batra, Earth-year 2488 A.D.:

The resurrected Trans-Gate didn't disappoint the Second Master as a ghostly blob formed in the farthest reaches of the opaque wall of the machine, slowly formed to develop arms and legs and a head, and finally...momentum!

The Master and Jo backed away in time, just as a shape took complete form just beyond the triangular frame of the Gate, and flew outwards to land on his stomach against the cold, dusty, cracked floor of the Batran lab. So intent was he on the newcomer, that the Master didn't even notice that Jo was edging her way towards a darkened doorway and the safety of a corridor.

Briggs stood up, cursing in the ways of a sailor, dusting himself off as he did so. When he was finally able to catch his breath and pay attention to his surroundings, he cried out an expletive as the Second Master took several threatening steps towards him. Briggs had seen aliens before (even though he considered every last one of them 'disgusting monsters' and not thinking, breathing, intelligent life forms). but this bug-eyed, decomposing monstrosity took the cake!

"Get away from me, ya freak!"

"Who are you?" the Second Master demanded, his voice scratchy and hoarse. "What're you doing here?"

"Killing you with my Best Friend if you come any closer, that's what!" Briggs warned, yanking out a long serrated knife that had, indeed, been used before. "The Master tossed me through this damned gate-"

"The Masterrr?" the Second Master bellowed, instantly interested.

"-to get his 'other self' he said."

Jo was sure that she saw an opening, now that the Master was completely focused on this nasty-looking young man, so she crept towards the door and down a number of corridors, the only thought in her mind to escape.

"I'm the Master, as well! Which version of me is asking my return? Describe him!"

"You're the Master?" Briggs asked derisively, challenging the half-dead creature before him, all hunched over in a charred cloak and hood. "Yea! Riiight!"

The decrepit monster lunged for him, and despite his walking-zombie image, the alien was strong enough to grab him and hold on. "I am the Master!" the thing insisted, hissing his words between exposed teeth and gums. "I look this way, obviously, because of a nuclear accident! Understand?"
"Ooh-oh-oooh-kaaay!" Briggs blubbered, too freaked out by the close contact with the monster to bother arguing.

"Take me back with you! To my other self!" the Second Master insisted.

"All right, all right, all right!" Briggs snapped, shaking himself loose. He brushed himself off, released a deeply-held breath and looked the creature in the bulging eyes, asking innocently, "How do we do that?"

"IMBECILE!" the Second Master shouted, and pushed Briggs back into the gate, while holding onto his arms.

The Trans-Gate's inner gravitational field did the rest, and pulled them back into its Vortex towards the other end of the connection.

Jo was greatly concerned how she was going to survive on this dead planet, until she heard the familiar materialization of the TARDIS, and couldn't be happier as she saw the Doctor's Ship down an adjoining hallway, with him outside it. He beckoned her into it with unusual urgency, deep lines forming across his forehead beneath his fluffy white hair.

"Don't need to tell me twice!" she sighed with relief and a big grin, her big eyes watering up with tears of joy.

She wasn't inside the familiar TARDIS console room five seconds before the Doctor raced back to his controls and set the Ship back in motion, leaving immediately.

"Are you following the Master, Doctor? He may or may not have a side-kick of his own these days!"

"Actually, Jo, I'm sending you back to Earth. Then I'm off on my own."

"What?" Jo asked, wide eyes looking up at him, imploringly. "Why?"

The Doctor set a few more controls and the TARDIS chimed, indicating the Ship had already landed. He turned to her in his most kindly-uncle mood, and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder as he explained, "Because I'm bending a few Rules of Time by being here. I shouldn't be here at all!"

"You've lost me," Jo frowned, shaking her head.

"Well, you see, Jo, I'm not the Doctor you saw yesterday. I'm from your future, after my exile has been lifted and I can control the TARDIS again." Jo looked the white-haired man up and down, noting that he didn't look all that different from the Doctor she'd seen in the UNIT lab just a couple days ago before he left for Sweden. He went on, "Now what I'm about to do is bending a few Rules and Laws a bit, giving your time-line just a smidgen of a paradox, but there's no other way to rescue you here and now, so here goes. When you see me again, that is, the me that you know in the here and now, tell me, I mean him, that one of the first things he must do when his exile is lifted is to travel to a planet called 'Batra' in the Earth year 2488. He needs to follow the Batran Trans-Gate beam there, and that way, when he is me, I can rescue you. Understand?"

Jo blinked her big eyes, and bit her lip, as she meekly answered, "Sort of?"

The Doctor patted her shoulder and offered her a consoling smile. "Perhaps a short note to myself would be in order."

Jo couldn't help but agree.

The planet Earth, 1963 A.D.:

While First Master waited by the Batran Trans-Gate, the Third Master paced around the machine, making sure that there were no loose connections. The device hummed louder and expelled more intense light from the opaque side just before Briggs returned along with a visitor. The Second Master appeared, and landed on his feet as Briggs once again lost control and landed in a heap on the floor. The injured Time Lord looked about the Area 51 lab, until he spotted his immediate predecessor, who looked at him like he'd seen his greatest enemy.

"Hello...'brother'," the Second Master growled, sarcastically, just before he attacked the First Master.

The Third Master rounded the Trans-Gate and paused, intrigued to watch his most recent counterparts struggle between themselves, his memory filling in fuzzy memories of the struggle, intriguingly, from both sides, since it occurred in his life many years ago, and many, many years ago. He'd nearly forgotten how damaged he'd been prior to taking over Tremas's body on Traken to become the Master that he was now. He allowed the Second Master to wail in anger and anguish and release his pent-up rage, as the First Master grunted,

"Some assistance-would be-appreciated!"

The Third Master shrugged, indifferent. "From me? Surely you can do it all by yourself? Or shall I ring up Trenchard again?" He smirked and removed a piece of black liquorice from an inside pocket of his topcoat to enjoy as he watched them fight.

The Second Master was shouting, "Your idiotic, maniacal plans on the planet Korillia led to this disfigurement! It's all your fault I'm like this!"

Finally, the Second Master was forced to release the First Master, as the fight was far too draining for him and too much pain in his body to continue. The First Master pushed him away, making his future incarnation collapse against a lab table. He gathered his breath in his damaged lungs and wheezed out between his exposed teeth and gums,

"Your constant failures to defeat the Doctor will lead me to oblivion! You'll travel to the planet Korilia, the world will explode, and destroy your body as you try to regenerate! THIS IS YOUR NEXT FORM!"

The Second Master looked to the ceiling, and spread his arms out for whatever Deity that he expected to swoop him up, or whatever changes to Time that he'd anticipated.

However, the time-line refused to change around him, and stubbornly stayed the same. He thought by telling the First Master of his failures that they would be prevented, since he'd be placed into a pro-active situation where he'd go back and not visit Korilia, thus preventing the disfiguring.

The First Master's next words cut him to his damaged hearts. "I refuse to believe that the hideous wretch before me is really me."

"I am you! I can prove it! Telepathic contact! Read my mind! Our mind!" the Second Master cried out.

"Very well," a sceptical First master frowned, dusting himself off and then releasing a cleansing exhale. He closed his eyes, cleared his mind and said, "Contact."

"Conttact!" the Second Master slurred.

They attempted telepathic contact, but too much damage had been done to the Second Master's physiology and psyche. All the First Master could read was an intense, almost insane hatred of the Doctor. His vanity prevented him from even entertaining the remotest possibility that he really would one day be reduced to this creature, and installed a rock-solid scepticism in him.

The First Master said with a nod to the Third, "I can readily believe that he is the Master in my future, but you? You can't possibly be a future me!"

The Second Master levelled the Third with an equally-intense stare. "You're one of us? Not a past incarnation...a future one! Yes, I can sense it! Tell him we are one and the same! All three of us; The Master."

The Third Master nodded towards his decrepit, former self, as he looked the First master in the eye and replied, "I know how he was disfigured. I can understand why he wants to change the future of your Time Line."

"Then tell him how it happened so that this won't happen to us!" the Second Master shouted, clenching and unclenching his bloated fists.

The Third Master refused, saying, "Now why would I do a stupid thing like that? Changing my part of our Time Line might mean that I might cease to exist. And as I've fought the Doctor many times in this form the Time Line mustn't be disrupted."

"Pleeeease!" the Second Master wailed, dropping to one knee before the Third version, wheezing and shaking, unable to produce real tears.

The First Master clicked his tongue in disgust, crossing his arms in contempt. "You're nothing more than a blithering, sad monster! And as for you, my greasy-haired, black-clad counterpart, you're certifiably inept! If the Doctor is still alive after all this time, despite your encounters, you're hardly one to brag about victory!"

"Watch your tongue, kid!" the Third Master snapped at the First Master. "You're a fool to me, what with one grandiose plan after another, culminating in defeat after defeat! It's your fault he looks like that!"

The Third Master knew he'd made a tactical mistake, as he hadn't intended to confirm that he knew about his predecessor's injuries. The deformed Second Master clutched the black and gold collar of the Third Master and demanded, "You're going to tell me how to become you! If you're my immediate future, I want to change into you now!"

"Not a chance, my decrepit 'brother'," the Third Master answered, shoving the Second Master back. "You still have to encounter the Doctor again, in your present form before I can come into being."

"Never! NEVERRR! I'll have nothing of that! How can I possibly fight the Doctor in this form? The pain is excruciating and I'm half-mad!" It was enough to make the Second Master attack the Third Master again, the uncooperative, unbelieving First Master long forgotten by the Second version.

"Ancient history to me!" the Third Master said through gritting teeth, making it sound like mocking, as he clawed at the savage hands of his former self. "Excuse me? Perhaps a little help here?" he asked his First self.

The First Master's mouth turned upwards in a lopsided angle, as his voice dripped with unrestrained sarcasm. "Why bother asking me? You were me once, and you know in your hearts that I'm not about to lift a finger! What was it you called me? A 'fool with grandiose plans'?"

Briggs had finally had enough, and scrounging around in his duffel bag of deadly goodies, produced a laser gun of alien origin, and ordered the Second Master to back off or he'd shoot.

The Third Master snapped, "Don't be stupid, man! If you kill him he'll never regenerate into me!"

"Then what the hell am I supposed to do?" a frustrated Briggs shouted.

The fight broke up once more as the Third Master twisted the Second Master's arm painfully into an awkward position, so he released his future version.

The First Master rolled his eyes and casually asked, "Since the three of us are here, perhaps you can finally tell us why he and I were brought here. I expected it to be the Doctor on the other side of the Batran Trans-Gate, but as it was him on one side and you on the other, it's just as well. So was it you that brought us here?"

"Not I. I, too, was drawn here by a semi-dormant Trans-Gate. I admit to a bit of tinkering that started up the linkage protocols, but we have more serious business to deal with at this time," the Third Master announced, taking immediate control of the meeting. "We're all aware of the destruction on Batra, courtesy of this Gate, so our next task is simple, albeit, thoroughly distasteful. The Trans-Gate needs to be shut off at this end to prevent Earth from being destroyed."

"Oh, ho, ho, ho, I think not!' the First Master chuckled, shaking his head as if he'd heard the stupidest comment in the universe. "Save this miserable, backwater planet? Save him and his kind?" he sneered, tilting his head at Briggs, again. "Whatever for?"

"So it won't end up like Batra, of course," the Third Master explained irritably, making it sound obvious. He looked at the Second Master. "You've seen it there. You tell him."

The Second Master, hunched over and trying to gain his breath as he fought the pain in his twisted arm, looked at his future self, then his past self, and back to the Third. "I agree with him!" he snapped, pointing at the First Master. "Let it rot!"

"You and I both know that can't be allowed to happen!" the Third Master insisted, through gritting teeth.

"Why should we care? Some of my so-called 'grandiose plans' involved its destruction, anyway!" the First Master admitted.

"Which haven't occurred as yet, in this Time Line!" the Third Master snapped. "This is Earth, 1963- you haven't crossed paths with the Doctor and UNIT at this point in time! If you allow the Batran Trans-Gate to contaminate and lay waste to the Earth, your futures and my past will drastically change! Save the Earth...and you save your future."

The Second Master retorted, "Let Earth die! One insignificant planet amongst billions? BAH!"

The First Master agreed. "You're outvoted two to one, 'brother'. It seems both of us are willing to allow the Time Line to be altered. After all, only you will cease to exist...not us!"

The Third Master said with unexpected confidence, "Briggs?" A second later, the human companion had a laser gun in both hands, pointing it at both of his Master's counterparts. "I trust those weapons are set on heavy-stun and not 'kill'?"

"Yea, man!" Briggs grinned, sounded cocky.

"Then I suggest you agree, my 'brothers'. The power to kill the Doctor once and for all lies only with me, not either of you. You've had your chances- this is my time! And anyways, as you're in a part my mind forever, you'll still savour the Doctor's ultimate defeat at my hands, just as surely as you caused it!"

"You make a somewhat intriguing argument," the First Master admitted, uncomfortable with a pair of laser guns pointing at himself.

The Second Master nodded, but suddenly threw his weight against Briggs, knocking him off balance. In the same motion, he slammed his hands across numerous Trans-Gate controls, causing the glowing interior to swirl rapidly and rise in an unsettling vibration of energy.

"You fool!" the Third Master shouted, stepping forward. "You've set the Batran Trans-Gate on overload, giving Earth just 5 minutes to live before it's pulled into a black hole!" His intentions to save Earth were put on hold as a realization chilled his bones. "Well! It appears that I'm in a bit of predicament, what with my TARDIS too far to reach before time detonation and soldiers on the other side of the door." The Master contemplated his options, and gave the First an obsequious nod and bow. "Perhaps I could arrange a 'lift' with you, sir? It's possible that my existence will be protected within your Ship."

Briggs couldn't believe what he was hearing and shouted in a panicked tone, "How I could have ever trusted you? You son of a b-

The Second Master was close enough to Briggs that he was able to lunge for one of the alien weapons in one hand, and pull the trigger, killing Briggs on the spot. The Third Master frowned, but sniffed, disinterested. No loss.

"Now...now...we wait!" the Second Master wheezed, his aim unsure and his face frozen in mutilated non-emotion, but his pain-wracked voice a clear indication that he was straining himself beyond his limits. The First Master didn't appreciate that this loathsome version was pointing the laser at him and not the future version with a twinge of conscience. He appreciated that this middle version was willing to destroy all of them in a black hole, because he was too much of a sore loser to admit defeat.

So, realizing the Second's insanity would destroy them all, the First Master looked at the Third Master, and exchanged a knowing twinkle in his eye, then jumped the Second Master. He attacked awkwardly, re-injuring his recently-broken arm, but a damaged limb was better than a black hole-crushed body! As the First smacked the Second's hand against a table again and again until he yowled in pain and dropped the laser, the Third Master stopped the overload, resetting the controls.

Dragging the Second Master closer and closer, the middle version tried once more to talk 'sense' in either one. "I have knowledge! Both of you can profit from my knowledge! You can avoid Korilia! And you can use Jo Grant against-AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The First and Third Masters worked together and physically threw the Second Master into the Batran Trans-Gate and back to the 25th Century, where his TARDIS was waiting for him on Batra.

"Disagreeable fellow," The First Master growled, dusting off his black suit, and running his gloved hands back across his hair to smooth it out.

"Disagreeable fellow," the Third Master growled at the same time, dusting off his black suit, and running his gloved hands across his hair to smooth it out.

They actually shared a light-hearted smile with one another as they realized that Time was syncing them up together!

Which meant it was time to part company! The Third Master shut off the majority of the controls for the Batran Trans-Gate, then removed a trio of key elements that would render the gate inert and useless.

"I simply cannot believe it, however. I refuse to believe it!" the First Master growled, as his face darkened.

"Believe what?' the Third Master asked, looking about, and estimating that the soldiers would break through the security doors in the next minute.

"I cannot believe I actually helped to save the pathetic planet Earth! Me! Of all people? The mind boggles!"

"Strange universe, strange occurrences. Rest assured- the Doctor will never learn of this from me! You might as well leave in your TARDIS. I'll deal with those men out there and get back to my- our Ship."

The First Master approached his TARDIS, opened the hidden doorway and paused to say, "Despite some unpleasantness...some intriguing glimpses into my future!"

The Third Master replied, Despite our time as that poor, damaged soul, rest assured that this incarnation has a renewed potential and will see more victories than the Doctor can deny us!"

A short telepathic contact nudge from the Third Master to the unknowing First planted the seed of a future visit to Traken after his accident. From there, he would set into motion the events that would see the Second Master absorb the living body of Councillor Tremas, and morph into his present-day, Third Master guise.

The earlier Master and his TARDIS faded away as the Third Master stepped over the dead body of his companion, Briggs.

Oh, well.

The ship would be a little more quiet now, but at least he wouldn't have to interrupt his plans every once in a while to feed the human. He rummaged through the duffel bag of weapons that he knew, instinctively, that Briggs would load up on, and found one that lit up his face.

"Ahhhh! Nice choice, late-Mister Briggs! Well done!"

The doors were finally bashed in completely, and a dozen Area 51 troops swarmed in, screaming warnings and sporting weapons of their own.

"Hello, gentlemen. Welcome. Unfortunately for you, these are the last words you'll ever hear...I am the Master."

The Third Master smiled at the confusion on the soldier's faces, and pulled the trigger.

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