The Players Talk.
The Master couldn't believe how someone as seemingly intelligent like Martha Jones could be so fundamentally stupid and ignorant.
Since her parents had been arrested due to Mr Jones's warnings to his daughter - the man hadn't believed his daughter would hang out with a " terrorist " like the Master had painted the Doctor to be, his ex wife had believed it but not him - the Master had monitored Martha's phone, had been for months, constantly checking up on her and trying to figure out when the TARDIS would arrive at the end of the universe.
Now, the silly little girl was trying to persuade her useless brother to hide. The Master didn't care about Leo and his family, he already had the majority under lock and key.
Finally the Master had had enough of the brotherly - sister talk, it wasn't as though Leo would listen to her anyway, " Oh, nice bit of hide and seek, I like that. But I'll find you, Martha Jones. Been a long time since we saw each other last, must be what ? Hundred trillion years."
Martha's voice came back, low and angry, " Let them go, Saxon," her voice rose as the Master's face twisted into a cold, cruel smile, " Y'hear me, let them go !"
The Master's laughter ended with a voice, " I'm here."
The Master stopped laughing as he took out his mobile phone, damn it was brilliant that he kept up with Human technology these days.
In a voice that was reverent, he spoke into it, almost whispered.
" Doctor."
The Doctor, his greatest enemy, his most worthy opponent. He had so few of those, when he'd eradicated them he always missed them deeply. But the Doctor was special, he knew the Master in ways even the evil Time lord didn't know. It had been suggested that the pair of them were two sides on the same coin and the Master had taken it as a compliment. Even if he disagreed with it.
" Master," the Doctor's voice said neutrally.
The Master closed his eyes, revelling in his own title even if he knew that the Doctor hated his alias, the Doctor had never been comfortable with it in the first place.
" I like it when you use my name." The Master whispered.
" You chose it. Psychiatrist's field day."
" As you chose yours," the Master retorted moving about the room, " The man who makes people better, how sanctimonious is that ?"
The Doctor changed the subject, " So, prime minister, then ?"
The Master crowed, " I know. Good isn't it ?"
The Doctor got on track with his next question his voice low and cold, since when was he cold ? " Who are those creatures ? There's no such thing as the Toclafane. That's just a made up name like the bogeyman.
The Master leant back in his chair, his tone becoming nostalgic, " Do you remember all those fairy tales about the Toclafane when we were kids ? Back home ?"
Now it was the Master's turn to be cold, " Where is it, Doctor ?"
" Gone."
The answer angered the Master, he'd tried to destroy Gallifrey himself once, sold the secrets of the matrix itself, but he'd always been defeated. How could someone do what he had not ?
" How can Gallifrey be gone ?" He hissed with malice.
The Doctor's voice became lower in his sorrow, " It burnt,"
" And the Time lords ?" the Master whispered. Surely they were still out there, somewhere, hidden with the telepathic link broken for security reasons…..
" Dead, and the Daleks. More or less, " the Doctor added as an afterthought. The Master could hear the bitterness in the other's tone, it was understandable. The Daleks were genetically programmed to always survive. They were like cockroaches, they could survive anything, their capacity for survival was matched only by the Master's will.
" What happened to you ?" The Doctor asked, bringing the Master back to the conversation at hand.
" The Time lords only resurrected me because I would be the perfect warrior for the Time war. I was there when that Dalek emperor took control of the cruciform." The Master said recollecting that horrendous time. The Master had been taken out of the Eye of Harmony after his run in with the Eighth Doctor and that surgeon. The Time lords had used his bio data extract to clone a new body with a complete Time lord life cycle.
" I saw it, I ran. I ran so far. Made my self human so they would never find me, because, " the Master stopped, afraid of swallowing his pride but deciding to do it anyway. " I was so scared." he admitted.
" I know." The Doctor's voice came over the mobile, his voice awash with compassion and understanding, though whether or not he knew that he, the Master, had given the Daleks the Cruciform in exchange for his life; who knew what Lady Romana had told him ? The Master broke out of his nostalgia, Rassilon, he was truly nostalgic in this new incarnation.
" All of them, but not you and Lady Romana. How did she survive ? The Lady President of Gallifrey, the last president of Gallifrey," the Master added almost as an afterthought. " You survived, so that must mean….?"
The Doctor took a deep breath, the Master could feel his hesitation over the line, " I was the only one who could end it. I tried, I did, I tried everything…."
Awe filled the Master's voice, " What did it feel like, though ? Two almighty civilisations burning ? Oh, tell me how that felt ?"
" Stop it !"
The Master ignored the other Time lord, and went on, " You must've felt like God. How does Lady Romana feel about you destroying the Time lords Doctor ? Does she hate you ?"
Somehow the Doctor's patience and temper snapped, something that rarely happened with him.
" No, she doesn't, you weren't there in the final days of the war. If you were then you've understood how Romana left the war ! I'm not going to argue with you, especially since you ran away ! Don't push me, don't insult me ! You ran way like a coward, only to reappear again. Now, you seem to be back to your old tricks. What's wrong ? Can't fight a war, so you come back and try conquering the universe ? Been there, done that. I've got the shirts and awards for surviving it !"
The Master was taken aback by the venom in the Doctor's voice.
The Doctor carried on, the anger still in his voice, " I'm surprised that you were brought back. I don't care what they were thinking. In my opinion you should've stayed in the Eye of Harmony, it was so much more peaceful. Like I said, you ran away. So don't blame me about the outcome of the war, and don't accuse Romana of running away, she stayed and fought. Don't accuse her of anything! Ever !" he shouted.
The Doctor's voice came back after a moment, " What are those creatures ? How did you even contact them ? The TARDISes systems are locked. You can only travel in one direction, the future. The communications systems are locked by my isomorphic code, you can't even follow a comet. So who are they ?" He finished.
The Master smirked, " You'll find out."
The Doctor's anger came back. " Don't play games with me, you'll find that I don't care for them anymore, you're dealing with a completely different Doctor, who are they ?"
" You'll find out, by tomorrow morning you'll know."
" We can leave this planet, we can fight across the constellations, over the galaxies." the Doctor's voice became more and more desperate, " But not on Earth."
" Too late," the Master said calmly.
" Why do you say that ?" The Doctor asked, puzzled curiosity infusing in his question.
" The drumming," the Master hissed, tapping his fingers on the table in a rhythm of four. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4. Constant, repetitive, never ending.
" Can't you hear it ?" The Master whispered desperately; he knew this was the first time that he, in any of his incarnations, had mentioned the drumming to the Doctor. The Time lords had absorbed the worst of it, but it was still there. With the others gone it was a constant curse, a painful curse.
" I thought it would stop, but it never does. It never, ever stops. Inside my head, " now the Master's voice became desperate, almost to the point of pleading, " The drumming, Doctor, the constant drumming." he closed his eyes in pain.
1 - 2 - 3 - 4.
" I can help you, please let me help." The Doctor said pleading.
The Master ignored this. It wasn't that he didn't doubt that the Doctor was sincere in his hope to help him, it was a combination of his pride and the fact that he didn't have any faith that his enemy could help him.
" It's everywhere. Listen, listen, listen," more drumming, it felt good to be able to put the drumming into something tangible, into three dimensions, instead of some kind of….sound. His previous incarnations hadn't done this, they'd preferred to ignore the sound. Never had he actually worded their existence.
How time changed.
He drummed his fingers on the desk, still talking, " Here come the drums, here come the drums." From the phone, the Master could hear the faint slapping sound, a repetitive beat. A grin appeared on his face.
" What have you done ?" the Doctor's question was low, quiet. Dangerous. " Tell me how you've done this, what are those creatures ?" The Doctor's voice became louder, then his patience snapped at last for the second time.
" Tell me ! "
The Master snapped out of his mood when he spotted something on the laptop in front of him; human technology may be primitive, but they sure did come up with imaginative methods of technology and their forms.
" Ooh look, you're on TV !"
" Stop it, answer me !" The Doctor spat angrily.
" No, really, you're on telly. You and your little band, which, by the way is ticking every demographic box. Congratulations on that. "
The Master carried on, " Look, there you are," leaning back into his comfortable seat, he continued, " You're public enemies number one, two and three ! Oh, and tell handsome Jack that I've sent his little " gang" off on a wild goose chase to the Himalayas, so he won't expect any help from them."
The Master could see on the computer screen the Doctor staring at the shop window which had a television inside, he looked like he was paralysed. He knew what was on the news, he'd made sure that news of a " dangerous terrorist group" was running around Britain, Humans were so paranoid and fearful of terrorism these days. Hardly surprising when you thought about it. The Master couldn't care less, but it gave him the appropriate cover in order to frame and tie up his greatest enemy.
" Turn to your right, Doctor." The Master ordered, smirking in satisfaction when he did, Martha Jones, Lady Romana and the freak joining him.
He saw the Doctor's hand dive into his coat pocket and take out his sonic screwdriver, over the phone he heard the muffled, " He can see us," the picture blurred, flashed, then faded into nothing.
" Oh, you public menace," the Master mocked, in a sarcastic scandalous tone. The Doctor had done the only thing he could've done in that situation, even if it didn't do any good, the country was littered with CCTV. Paranoid, too bad that as Prime Minister, damn, he loved that title, especially since he was now the most powerful man in the country. Standing up, walking around the room, he spoke into the phone,
" Better start running ! Go on, run !" When the Doctor and his companions started talking over the phone, the Master interjected loudly, " Run, Doctor ! Run for your life !"
Holding the mobile close to his mouth, the Master shouted, " I said, RUN !"
Pocketing the mobile, the Master smiled.
" Tomorrow morning, Britain will be welcoming an extraterrestrial species….."
The Master flipped channels, nothing interesting. Since he was the one to announce first contact, he knew that the event would be a media circus and that nothing noteworthy would be gained from listening.
He changed the channel to AMNN.
" The president is said to be furious that Great Britain has taken unilateral action….." again, the Master changed the channel, of course Winters would be furious, because the Prime Minister of another country was the one on show and he wasn't.
The channel changed to the teletubbies. The Master chuckled; he had fond memories of his time in prison during the 70s, how he'd watched Ivor the engine, the Clangers and so on. He smirked as he recalled how Trenchard, the prison governor of the island had said that they were only puppets for children. The Master had, of course, been aware of that, and he'd been slightly jealous and envious that the children of the Earth had been lucky enough to have such an entertaining range of things for their children.
The Master was shaken when his time senses detected a disturbance in the room as a Toclafane appeared behind him on his left. He glanced at the floating basketball, before turning back to the laptop screen.
" Have you seen these things ? This planet's amazing" The Master asked, trying to make some form of conversation; the Toclafane were all business these days that it was now very rare to make them talk about something else.
The Master had heard of their constant questions so many times this past month that it was becoming repetitive and boring.
He gestured to the screen, vainly trying to make the creature speak, " Television in their stomachs, now that is evolution." he took a sip of brandy, relishing the taste. Alcohol had little effect on Time lords, it was like drinking coca cola with an added dose of sugar.
" Is the machine ready ?" The Toclafane asked, it was the female one; the Toclafane had, under his orders, kept their genders and basic personalities. The Master felt that he didn't want another variety of Daleks under his command that he ordered some changes.
The Master now gave the creature his undivided attention, " Tomorrow morning, it reaches critical at 8.02. Precisely."
He took another swig, trying desperately to ignore the drumbeat, which now seemed louder somehow. Why were they louder ?
The Toclafane's voice now sounded desperate, " We have to escape because it's coming, sir, the darkness. The never ending darkness. We have to run and run and run !"
The Master had been under considerable stress, he'd been trying to run a stupid backwater country on this fool planet whilst drawing up his final plans against his enemies, the drums and the Toclafane not being so far behind.
The Toclafane's voice, annoying and high as it was, made it worse.
" 8 o clock, tomorrow morning," the Master finally snapped, hoping to shut the creature up. It worked.
He got up and walked over to the window. " Tell your people the world is waiting."
The temporal disturbance occurred again as the Toclafane left and the Master was once again alone in the room, making him sigh with relief at the peace and ordered calm of the room. He drew back the blinds of the windows slightly. It was raining, which matched the Master's present turbulent mood.
This plan could not fail. He'd worked too hard, done things he'd never needed to do in order to reach half of his present goals.
As the Master stared into the bleak night, he actually thought it beautiful. He'd seen rain before, on countless worlds. Back home, the planet was surrounded by a weather grid even though the Time lord race had been in their underground city states. When he'd first seen rain he'd been enthralled at the sight of the beauty and the scent of rain.
The rain wasn't all on his mind. The Doctor dominated the most of it, he knew that the Doctor would find a way to try and defeat him. The hard part lay in trying to fight a plan that had been in the making for 2 years. But he knew never to underestimate the Doctor; he remembered his alliance with Goth. That had been the ultimate proof that a cornered Doctor was a lethal Doctor.
He remembered how Goth had underestimated the fourth Doctor, who'd proven to be a formidable opponent even in the Matrix. He knew that the Doctor, when the odds were against him, was a more dangerous foe than ever. So far, the Master had been prepared and ready, one step ahead. He'd need to stay ahead in order to win this round.
He was shaken from his thoughts by a familiar pair of arms which wrapped themselves around his waist. He turned around and hugged his wife.
" 8.00. The world will be ours." The Master said into his wife's black hair.
A/N Goth was the Time lord chancellor in the Deadly Assassin who allied himself with the Master after his run in with Susan, the Doctor's granddaughter. George Trenchard was the prison governor who was responsible for the Master during the Sea devils, the Master used his patriotism against him, used it to manipulate the unfortunate man, who later died.