A/N: Hi everyone! It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm not going to apologize because I do have a life outside of FanFiction, so obviously I can't update all the time, but I am going to apologize for not warning you all before. I'm going to try to update once every two weeks at the very latest. Not sure if anyone's noticed either, but I finally figured out how to consolidate my chapters. Apparently it works better on Google Chrome, which I was pleasantly surprised by. I also decided to name the chapters, but that was more for me to organize and edit the chapters (this way I know which one I'm accessing). And so, yes, I am currently going through the older chapters to edit them for spelling and continuity errors. So, yay! big things happening here!

Also, I'm going to start responding to reviews on the reviews page (pretty sure I can do that?) because it'll take up less room here. And I confuse myself sometimes. So yay once again :) Anyways, I absolutely love and appreciate reviews because they make me want to write faster :)

"Mister Saxon, I'm afraid I really must inquire as to the steps your department is taking in regard to the ghost problem."

The Master sighed silently, rolling his eyes to stare at the ceiling where he hoped he would find the patience to deal with his superior, technically speaking, of course.

"I understand your concern, Prime Minister," he struggled to say calmly as he leaned back in his chair away from the speaker phone on the large conference table, "but I am afraid that the information concerning the ghost shifts is confidential, available on a need-to-know basis, you see."

Harriet Jones, on the other hand, sighed in frustration, perfectly aware that her Minister of Defense would hear her dissatisfaction loudly and clearly. "Saxon, I am the Prime Minister, and as such, your superior," she reminded him sternly. "I say what I need to know, not the other way around. Understood?"

"Perfectly, ma'am," the Master replied.

The phone was silent for a moment as Harriet Jones was shocked by his blatant lack of reverence for her position. "Saxon, I am in no mood to play games with you," she growled, finally losing her temper. "I have too much to deal with at the moment."

That, actually, made the Master smirk with amusement. Oliviana had been keeping him updated on the Prime Minister's downfall into public disgrace when she wasn't too busy infiltrating the ranks of Torchwood.

There was nothing like the threat of governmental action at the hands of the Minister of Defense to open the doors for the Minister's wife. Oliviana loved the power she now held over various government and non-government departments and divisions simply because she was "married" to one of the most powerful men in the country. It was like being the wife of the Lord President, but instead of being on Gallifrey, she was enjoying the perks on Earth among humans.

"Yes," he drawled, "I heard about the threat of the no-confidence vote."

"Yes, thank you for the reminder, Saxon," Harriet Jones snapped. "Tell me what you are going to do about this before the ghost shifts become more noticeable. So far the shifts are confined to rural areas where we are able to execute damage control promptly... But what is your plan for dealing with ghost shifts located in more populated areas?"

"If you must know," the Master said, leaning closer to the speakerphone and beginning to subconsciously tap the rhythmic drumbeat on the table without realizing he was doing it, "I have a news conference scheduled for later this afternoon to discuss the issue."

"I am only going to say this one time, Mister Saxon, so do not make me repeat myself," Harrier Jones said slowly and clearly, hoping he would not make her regret her decision. "Do not, under any circumstances, reveal the existence of extraterrestrial life. The world simply cannot handle it. Blame it on gas leaks if you have to, just do not confirm the presence of aliens on Earth, especially not on English soil."

The Master cocked an eyebrow; Harriet Jones certainly was a fool if she was going to continue to deny the existence of extraterrestrial life. "And what if I happen to defy you?"

"I will destroy your political career," she vowed coldly. "I am aware you plan to run against me in the next General Election. I can ruin your chances before you even declare your intentions to run against me."

"You could do that," the Master conceded, "but then you would have to actually stand a chance of defeating me in an election, which, might I remind you, I am not the one who faces a vote of no confidence." He paused, grinning with the knowledge that she was probably fuming, red in the face, at his statement. "Now, good-day ma'am. Pleasure as aways."

Oliviana gazed adoringly at the Master as he surveyed the crowd below from their slightly elevated position on the steps of the great building behind them. He was so calm and cool in the spotlight, suave and charming every time the cameras were rolling. His brilliance had a hypnotic factor that had even her, a Gallifreyan, under his spell... and she loved every minute of every day of it. Under his spell was where she always had wanted to be.

"People of Britain," the Master began, staring into the bright lights of the news cameras confidently, "I stand here before you today to discuss a matter of national importance... By now you all have heard rumors of supernatural events, sometimes referred to as 'Ghost Shifts'."

He paused for dramatic effect, knowing all those watching the news conference would likely be very shocked to have a senior government official address the rumors that had been circulating for weeks around the rural areas. "The Ministry of Defense, under my direction, has been working closely with the Torchwood Institute to analyze and predict these ghost shifts. At this point in time, we can confirm that the shifts, as well as the ghosts, are legitimate and, more importantly, safe."

There were sounds of hushed murmurs emanating through the crowd below, but the Master continued on. "Over the next few weeks, perhaps months, your ancestors will be able to walk the Earth with you once more, as ghosts. We do not yet know the cause of their reappearance on Earth, but let us call it what it really is, a miracle. A miracle, from God, or whichever deity or deities you may or may not believe in. This is a miracle... the manifestation of all of our loved ones on Earth is a miracle."

Oliviana felt her pulse racing as Koschei spoke to the crowd; the feeling of excitement and astonishment affected even her, despite the fact she had known about the ghost shifts ever since she had begun working with Torchwood.

"People of Britain, I stand here before you today to share this miracle with you all because I do not believe in depriving the public of the truth, as other governmental officials choose to do," he said, referring to Harriet Jones's non-information policy. "I believe that the citizens of Britain are brilliant... so much more brilliant than those in power think you all are. But not me, I know how brilliant you are. I see you as you really are, people of Britain, and I respect you."

"Time for the kill, Koschei," Oliviana whispered to herself excitedly, smiling widely into the cameras fixed on Harold Saxon.

"I stand before you all today, not as a Minister of Defense, but as a candidate for the upcoming General Election," the Master announced, eliciting a loud response of support from the crowd. "My platform will be full disclosure and honesty pertaining to all things the previous regime hides away under wraps. When you all go to cast your vote, people of Britain, remember to vote for the candidate who promises to tell you the truth. Remember to vote for the candidate who told you about the ghost shift miracle. Remember to Vote Saxon."

Yvonne Hartman grinned at the workers before her. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to announce we've just measured the ghost energy at five-thousand gigawatts. Give yourselves a round of applause."

The room erupted into applause and Yvonne smiled one last time before returning to her office, shutting the door behind her. "Five-thousand gigawatts," she sighed tiredly, collapsing into the chair opposite the blonde woman.

Oliviana nodded. "And to think, two months ago, people ran amok whenever the ghosts appeared."

Yvonne laughed, recalling the mass chaos that occurred. "We all have your husband, Harold Saxon, to thank for that, calming the people down with that charm he has." Oliviana chuckled at his charm. "You're quite the lucky woman, Lucy. He's quite the handsome man."

"He is, isn't he?" Oliviana smirked, crossing her legs and leaning back into the cushioned chair. "I can't imagine how popular he will be once he is the Prime Minister."

"You're sure he will win the election, then?" Yvonne asked, although she knew the answer, Harold Saxon was the best candidate anyone had seen for years. He was just so good.

"There was a piece in the Sunday Mirror last week showing Harold's lead by at least ten points. Harriet Jones and Albert Dumfries couldn't possibly stand a chance against numbers like those," Oliviana replied. "So, yes, I am sure he will win... But that's far in the future, and we have more important things to focus on, such as that power surge that occurred."

Yvonne grimaced and hoped that Mrs. Saxon wasn't too put off by the power surge to convince her husband to stop funding the Torchwood Institute's experiments. "I am sure nothing is the matter, but I will check anyway," she said, standing up and heading to the door. "If you would wait for a few moments?"

Once Oliviana was alone, she pulled out her mobile and called the Master. He greeted her warmly, as if he wasn't surrounded by reporters and people working for him. "Harold," she said, using his human name as they did in public, just in case they were being listened to, "I just spoke to Yvonne Hartman over at Torchwood about the recent ghost shift; there seemed to be a power event on this end. Is that going to be a problem? I can pull the plug on the project at any time."

The Master chuckled. "No, don't be silly, Lucy, darling, I am sure she has everything under control."

Oliviana raised an eyebrow at his response, instantly knowing he was being careful with his words because of who he was around. "Who is it, this time? That Department of Transportation fool, Arthur Clarke?"

He laughed and held up a finger, indicating to the people that he wanted privacy as he ducked into his private office at the Ministry. "No, I'm headed to another meeting with George Cox. He's absolutely insufferable, but the man gets things done."

"Why don't you invite him over for tea tonight?" she suggested, knowing that George Cox would immediately support Harold Saxon upon George seeing her. "I'm sure that would do the trick."

"Do I have to?" the Master complained, somewhat childishly. "I am still considering skinning him alive for the way he talked to you during the charity ball last weekend."

Oliviana rolled her eyes at his threat, but didn't doubt the veracity of it one bit. "He was not aware that I am your wife, Harry. I'm sure once he knows, he will support you one-hundred percent."

"If only to get closer to you," he grumbled, sighing once he realized that her idea was going to work. "Fine, I'll invite him for tea tonight... But I will skin him if he so much as makes one inappropriate comment to you. I do need to re-bind some old leather books in our library, and I think his skin would complement the mahogany shelves, don't you agree?"

"Yes, darling," Oliviana smiled. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Yvonne approaching the room. "I have to go now, Yvonne's coming back."

"Will you be able to get lunch with me?"

"Unfortunately, I agreed to a lunch meeting with Nancy Price," she replied.

The Master rolled his eyes at the name. "Isn't it enough that you talked with her at the charity ball?"

"Harold, she is very important in the Department of Education, not to mention she is the cousin of that reporter Vivien Rooke, who, might I remind you, is digging into both of our pasts," Oliviana replied curtly. "Besides, I had to talk to someone while you and Professor Whatever-his-name-is practically spouted poetry to one another."

"I resent that, you know we need his technology."

"I fail to see why you need to rely on an old man to make new technology for you," she sighed, "but if you must, please keep me out of it. It's disturbing how creepy he actually is... Oh, Yvonne's almost here; I'll call you later."

The Master said 'good-bye' and hung up the phone. He pinched the bridge of his nose to compose himself, remembering that he couldn't let the humans know just yet how he really felt about them.

A loss of temper, especially a Time Lord's temper, would be doubly bad for him. Not only would the humans not vote for him in the General Election, but Oliviana would practically try to kill him.

And knowing the wrath of Time Ladies, she might actually succeed.

"And we're into Ghost Shift," Yvonne announced, slipping on a pair of darkened sunglasses as the laboratory filled with bright light, signifying the newest ghost shift.

"Online," the computer notified the scientists.

Yvonne had a fleeting hint of a smile on her face as she thought that perhaps, for once today, there would be no issue with the ghost shift. Of course, she was a little peeved that the shift couldn't go off without a hitch when Mrs. Saxon was visiting the Institute, but worse things had happened before than an upset benefactor.

She thought everything was all in the clear too soon, however; at that moment, an alarm rang through the Institute. "What've we got?" she demanded the scientist. This time, she thought with frustration. Perhaps it was a good thing that Mrs. Saxon had to leave so soon.

"Something's interfering with the ghost field."

"Location?"

"It's close," the scientist responded. "It's within the city."

Yvonne groaned and threw her hands in the air in frustration. "There goes another Ghost Sift," she exclaimed, deciding to prematurely end the shift to get to the bottom of the issue once again. "Close it down! Close it down!"

"Offline," the computer announced, shutting down on command.

"What the hell went wrong this time?" she demanded.

The young scientist examined the readings. "It was a very specific excitation of the ghost field, which makes it easy to pinpoint," he replied, his attention still focused largely on the computer. "Almost there... South London... South East fifteen. It's a council estate... the Powell Estate. SU15 7GO. It was a public area."

Yvonne nodded slightly, thinking over various contingency plans for dealing with interference. "Can we patch into the CCTV network?"

"Doing it now," the scientist responded. "Here we go. We've got a camera within fifty yards."

Yvonne was astonished when she saw who was responsible for interrupting the Ghost Shift. "Oh, my God."

"Is it him?"

Yvonne stared blankly at the screen, finally believing what Mrs. Saxon had told her when she first started donating money to the Torchwood Institute for the Ghost Shift Project- that the man on the screen was dangerous and not to be trusted. "It's him."

"Now Ms. Price," Oliviana started with a level tone, hoping to not upset the older woman sitting across from her with her question.

"Call me Nancy, please," Nancy Price insisted cordially, as Oliviana had insisted she call her Lucy instead of Mrs. Saxon earlier in the meal.

Oliviana smiled politely at the interruption. "Nancy," she corrected herself, "I have it under good authority that you are related to the Sunday Mirror investigative journalist, Vivien Rook. Would I be correct?"

Nancy's complexion became a shade paler and she shifted in her seat. "Yes, Vivien is my cousin on my mother's side," she replied stiffly.

"Oh, I must apologize, Nancy," Oliviana said innocently, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with my question."

Nancy inhaled deeply to regain her composure. "No, it is I who must apologize," she said in a quieter tone, not wishing to upset the wife of a prominent politician. "Vivien and I are not on speaking terms. We haven't been for the past couple of decades."

"Why ever not, if I may ask?"

"We ascribe to different modes of ethics. While I believe in transparency and honesty to further my work in the Department of Education, Vivien believes in deceit and bribery to further her goals in the journalistic realm," Nancy explained.

Oliviana took a sip of her tea and gently replaced it on the dainty saucer. "Your work with fixing the problems inherent in the school systems of various counties should be praised," she remarked. "You truly have outdone yourself."

Nancy smiled at the praise; she was happy someone was finally noticing her hard work. "Thank you so much for the kind words, Mrs. Saxon."

"Lucy," Oliviana corrected lightly. "You know, just between you and me," she said, leaning towards Nancy, "my husband is very impressed by you."

"That's a great honor," Nancy replied. "Your husband is a very impressive man, himself."

"He is, isn't he?" Oliviana echoed. "I'm not sure if you have seen the most recent polls, but they show him in the lead. I am afraid I wasn't completely honest with my motivations for asking you to lunch today."

"Oh?"

"Harold asked me to discreetly find out if you would be interested in endorsing him," Oliviana explained, "but I thought that an honest woman such as yourself would appreciate my asking upfront."

Nancy was quiet for a few moments, thinking over her answer. "I would be honored to endorse Harold Saxon for Prime Minister under one condition."

"Yes?" Oliviana prompted.

"I would like to have a private meeting with him to ensure that he fully supports education reforms in Great Britain."

Oliviana grinned, but inside she felt like smirking like the cat that got the canary. She snared Nancy Price. "I can one-up your condition, Nancy Price," she chirped confidently. "On behalf of my husband, pending his election, I would like to ask if you would accept the position of being part of his cabinet?"

"You're asking whether or not I would like to be part of Harold Saxon's cabinet?" Nancy repeated in disbelief.

Oliviana nodded, still smiling. If the woman knows what's best for her, she will accept at once, she thought darkly.

Nancy smiled widely. "Of course, I would accept the position!"

Oliviana smiled back. "That's wonderful! I just have one, personal favor to ask of you."

"Anything, Lucy, whatever you want, consider it done."

"Would you do me a favor by asking your cousin to consider writing a piece on my husband for the Sunday Mirror?" Oliviana asked. "I think it would do wonders for the polls and the election if his ideas were exposed to a wider population, but I don't have any connections with journalists."

"But I do," Nancy insisted, not realizing she was being used. "I will talk to Vivien Rook and discuss the opportunity with her. Should I call you with her response?"

"Yes, that would be wonderful, thank you."

"And so once I learned she had been dyeing over her grey streaks, that's when I knew I had to divorce her!" George Cox howled with laughter at his own joke.

The Master's act was flawless as he laughed along with the sleazy politician sitting near him at the formal dining table.

Oliviana tried her hardest not to cringe outwardly at the distasteful joke at the expense of his newest ex-wife. "George, one of these days, you're going to run out of women to marry!" she added with a faked grin of amusement. Inside she prayed he would make a move on her so that the Master had an excuse to go through with his threat.

"My dear Lucy is right, George," the Master chimed in, "isn't it a bit hypocritical of you to divorce someone over greying hair when you, yourself, are greying as well?"

George dropped his silverware onto the table and Oliviana tried not to jump at the man's lack of polite manners. Being a human was no excuse for poor table manners. After taking a long swig of his wine, George chuckled. "It's one thing for a man to show his age," he replied heartily, turning to Oliviana to add, "it makes him look suave and debonair."

"Is that so?" she challenged.

"Of course, Lucy," he winked in her direction, causing the Master to grip his knife harder. "But it is quite another thing for my wife to do so. I simply have to have a young, attractive woman on my arms, you see."

"Yes, of course," the Master conceded, placing the knife down so he wouldn't be tempted to carve into the man's neck instead of the beef on his plate.

"And your lovely wife is quite taken, so I'm afraid I must continue to search for the next-best woman in England," George finished, not noticing the uncomfortable expressions on his hosts' faces.

"Quite right," the Master said. He looked at his watch. "Oh, look at the time, I'm afraid you should be heading home before the next Ghost Shift occurs. I'll send the car for you."

The Master, Oliviana, and George stood up and walked to the front entrance where a car was waiting for the politician. George and the Master shook hands. "Thank you for inviting me over for tea, Harold, I had such a lovely time talking to you and Lucy again," he said, winking once more in Lucy's direction.

"It was our pleasure," the Master replied, his voice not betraying the dangerous glint in his eyes that only Oliviana was able to discern. "You are my biggest supporter, and as such, are indispensable."

"Koschei, can we use the TARDIS to redo tonight?" Oliviana asked, resting her head against his chest as they lounged on their bed in the TARDIS, watching the news later that night. "That was a good night wasted with a poor-excuse for a man."

He chuckled and kissed her head. "It is still light out, perhaps there still can be hope for the rest of the night?" he said suggestively.

Oliviana was about to respond in the same suggestive manner until a man on the television caught her attention.

"It's extraordinary, there are more ghosts than we've ever seen before, and it's happening all over the world," the man announced, before the camera cut to a police commander.

"As far as we know, the increase in ghost activity is harmless," the police commander said.

"Koschei, are you certain the ghosts are unable to enter the TARDIS?" Oliviana asked, looking up at him with slight worry etched on her face.

He smiled down at her and adjusted the blanket around their bodies to let her snuggle up closer to him. "I'm one-hundred percent sure, Liviana. You're safe right here with me."

"They're not ghosts!" the presenter on the television suddenly shouted. "They're metal men!"

Oliviana watched the television in horror as a Cyberman strangled the presenter. The television cut out to the police commissioner once more. "I urge you, stay in your homes!"

"Damn it!" the Master cursed. "I should have thought of the idea of Cybermen from Void-Space. That's absolutely brilliant! And they thought of it themselves!"

Oliviana giggled at his self-deprecating reaction to the news. "Better luck next time, darling," she said, arching her back to kiss him on the lips briefly. "They better not ruin the plan. I will be absolutely furious if we sucked up to all of those politicians for nothing."

"Relax, Oliviana," he murmured, lowering their bodies to the bed and pulling the covers around them once again, "they're just Cybermen. Without a commander or a Cyberking, they're practically useless."

"You sound like you'd love to fill in the vacancy," Oliviana joked, giggling at the feathery kisses the Master was leaving along her jawline.

"I would love to modify Cybermen one day," he agreed, "just not when I'm busy focusing on the most beautiful Time Lady I have ever seen."

"Oh? What about Rysra, Koschei? You two were engaged for quite some time, if I remember correctly," she teased, knowing he couldn't stand the conceited Time Lady.

"Yes, well, she was practically a Sontaran compared to you, my Lady Duchess," the Master smirked, pressing his lips against hers as he rolled on top of her.

Oliviana felt her hearts begin to race faster at the sudden weight on top of her and she tangled her fingers in his soft brown hair, pulling his face closer to hers to deepen the kiss.

The Master's fingers teased her exposed skin along her neckline, and she sat up to give him easier access when she accidentally got a peak at the television. "Shit!" she exclaimed, pushing the Master away from her and pointing at the screen.

The Master groaned in complaint, but nevertheless rolled off of her to look at the screen. He was pleasantly surprised that a Cyberman had the intelligence to broadcast its message over it.

The Cyberman looked blankly at the camera. "Cybermen now occupy every landmass on this planet, but you need not fear," it announced in the distinct monotone. "Cybermen will remove fear. Cybermen will remove sex and class and color and creed."

"Oh, no, not sex!" the Master grinned roguishly, purposely using the word's other meaning, as he ran a hand over Oliviana's chest.

"Koschei!" she exclaimed, startled by the sensation created by his hand brushing over the soft fabric covering her sensitive skin.

"You will become identical," the Cyberman continued. "You will become like us."

"What the hell is going on at Torchwood?" Oliviana said, reaching over to the end table to retrieve her phone. Yvonne didn't answer the call. "Can you patch us into the Institute?"

"Do you even need to ask if I can?" the Master retorted, rolling his eyes and adjusting a setting on the laser screwdriver before flashing it at the television. Yvonne's office came on screen, but there was nothing of importance happening, so he adjusted it to show the laboratory with the Void ship.

"Daleks and Cybermen!" he cried out happily. "This must be the Feast of Omega!"

Oliviana chuckled at his excitement that paralleled the excitement of young Gallifreyans on the festive holiday, anxiously awaiting their presents.

"Identify yourselves," the dalek demanded to the Cybermen opposite it.

"You will identify first."

"State your identity," the dalek demanded once more.

"You will identify first."

"Identify!"

Oliviana assumed that if daleks had eyes and could roll them they most definitely would.

"That answer is illogical," the Cyberman replied. "You will modify."

"Daleks do not take orders."

"You have identified as Daleks."

"Outline resembles the inferior species known as Cybermen."

The Master laughed loudly. "The sass of these two species is brilliant! Why the Time Lords never thought of this as a potential source of entertainment is beyond me," he said. "When we return home, I will make sure this show-off can happen again."

"Long range scans confirm the presence of crude cybernetic constructs on a worldwide scale," the dalek retorted.

"We must protect the Genesis Ark," a second dalek added.

The Master's face paled. "Well, that's not good."

"Genesis Ark?" Oliviana asked, but received no answer from him as he focused more on the television.

"Our species are similar," the Cyberman allowed, "though your design is inelegant."

"Daleks have no concept of elegance," the dalek replied.

"This is obvious," the Cyberman retorted, making Oliviana forget about the issue of the Genesis Ark as she laughed. "But consider, our technologies are compatible... Cybermen plus Daleks. Together we could rule the universe."

"Hey! That's my job!" the Master shouted at the television as if he thought the species would be able to hear him.

"You propose an alliance?" the dalek asked the Cyberman.

"This is correct."

"Request denied."

The Cybermen readied their weapons and trained them on the dalek. "Hostile elements will be deleted."

Once the Cybermen began shooting at the Dalek, the Dalek erupted into an "Exterminate!" and decimated the hostile Cyberman.

In the background, a viewscreen was activated, revealing what Oliviana supposed was the Cyberleader. "Daleks, be warned," the Cyberleader said. "You have declared war upon the Cybermen."

"This is not war," the Dalek replied, "this is pest control."

"The sass in these species," the Master said, enjoying himself once more.

"We have five million Cybermen," the Cyberleader reported. "How many are you?"

"Four."

If the Cybermen could feel emotions, Oliviana commented that the Cyberleader was feeling indignation. "You would destroy the Cybermen with four Daleks?" the Cyberleader asked.

The Dalek wasted no time in responding. "We would destroy the Cybermen with one Dalek... You are superior in only one respect."

"What is that?"

"You are better at dying," the dalek said. "Raise communications barrier!" it said, blocking the Cyberleader's view, just as the daleks, along with the Time Lords got a brief glance of the Doctor in the same room as the Cyberleader.

"What the hell is he doing there?" Oliviana cursed, sitting up straight. "He isn't supposed to arrive on Earth this soon!"

"Calm down, Liviana," Koschei said calmly, "we already know he will have to arrive after Utopia at some point to retrieve his precious TARDIS, it's all just a matter of when."

"Maybe it's now," Oliviana protested childishly.

"Obviously not, because he has his TARDIS still with him," he reminded her.

"Fine, but that still doesn't explain what he's doing here."

"I may be wrong," the Master began, "but I never am so let's forget I said that, but in order for the Daleks on screen to have found some way to control the Genesis Ark-"

Oliviana interrupted him. "What is the Genesis Ark?"

"Time Lord technology," he sighed, shaking his head. "I worked on it before you left. It was one of our contingency plans, so that's why I was never able to tell you what exactly I was working on."

"So how can daleks control Time Lord technology?"

"Well, if you hadn't interrupted me, you would know by now," the Master chided playfully. "In order for the daleks to have found some way to control the Genesis Ark, they would have to think differently than a dalek, be different from a dalek. They had to become something more creative, less dalek. Do you understand?"

Not really, but she was trying her hardest. "So these daleks, the four of them, they're daleks, but they're somehow better than normal daleks?"

"Kind of," the Master said, "but they're more than that. They are the most lethal versions of a dalek because they can think."

"Are you saying that they can open the Ark?" Oliviana asked, still not understanding completely, mostly because she missed the entire Time War. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"It's a prison ship for Daleks. What do you think is the worst that can happen?"

"It opens up and sucks in the four daleks?"

The Master sighed; she really had no idea. "Not exactly. One touch from someone with Artron energy will cause the Genesis Ark to open up and release the millions of Daleks imprisoned inside during the Last Great Time War."

"Oh... I see the issue now," Oliviana stated blankly, feeling a sudden urge to hide in the depths of the TARDIS.

"Do you want me to go to Canary Wharf and see what I can do?"

"No, don't leave me," Oliviana worried, clinging to him, "the Doctor will figure something out. He always does."

"He does, doesn't he?" the Master observed darkly. "Well, he can escape Daleks and Cybermen, but he won't be able to escape a Time Lord and a Time Lady. He will not defeat us."

A/N: I hope you all liked it! I had to include the part with the Cybermen and Daleks because that has to be one of my most favorite scenes in the entire show because of the beautiful levels of sass. Once the dalek says, "this is not war, this is pest control," I pretty much die every time.