oOo

The room was exactly as Tegan had described it, essentially a large metal cage plunked into the middle of the Master's TARDIS. "Cozy, eh?" was all Ace said as she looked around. There wasn't much to see, but she closely examined the metal walls, floor, and ceiling, broken only by the metal door into the corridor and another door, smaller, half-open and offering a glimpse of a spartan lav also done up in metal. Must have been a right treat, sitting down on that particular bathroom necessity...

Then there was the bed. Ace looked it over, taken aback by the sheer size of the thing. It dominated the room, with its plump pillows, mounds of white comforters over equally white sheets and blankets. King sized, Ace guessed, with a simple but sturdy looking headboard pressed against the wall opposite the door, almost too tall to climb into. It looked like the Master, always one to outdo everyone else, had pinched it from a posh hotel the way others would nick the towels or robes. It looked more comfortable than any bed Ace had ever slept in, and she noted the way Tegan avoided looking at it just as she carefully noted every other detail about the place.

The metal; there had to be a reason for it, more than just intimidation. The Master had no worries about keeping Kyris in a normal room, so it wasn't just his special place for prisoners. And if there were something about it that specifically warded off Romana's machine, then he'd apparently been unconcerned if the Doctor watched his son being held prisoner...but didn't want the other Time Lord to know about his other captive.

Which brought her back to Tegan. Kyris seemed inclined to trust her, and his instincts were generally sound, but there had to be a reason the Master wanted her not only alive, but impervious to detection. "It's got to be in the metal," Ace muttered, peering closely at the door jamb, but not touching it. She'd have Kyris check it out later. Maybe there were scans they could do, if the TARDIS allowed them access to any equipment; most of the doors Ace had idly tried on their way here were locked.

"Seen enough?" Tegan had grown increasingly restless, and there was a haunted quality to her eyes. Something had obviously happened in this room, beyond the mere fact of her captivity, and Ace was determined to get to the bottom of it. It wasn't prying, she told herself. Any information could be useful, anything Tegan could tell her might lead Ace back to her daughter.

"Enough to know that this," she nodded at the metal box, "isn't the end of the story. Is it."

"I'm not working with the Master." Tegan's voice was defiant, laced with panic but as honest as anything Ace had ever heard. "You can't possibly believe that, not after what he--"

"What? After he what?" Ace deliberately pushed the door open wider, slamming it back with a harsh metallic "clank" against the interior wall. Tegan flinched, her eyes involuntarily finding the bed. "He held you captive, I get that, but there's more, and I need to know." She grabbed the other woman's arms and shook her. "It could be important, it could be what I need to know to save my daughter!" Her voice rose with the last words, and Tegan wrenched herself away, away from Ace and away from the door.

"It has nothing to do with your daughter!" Tegan's voice was higher, sharper as she backed up against the opposite wall, unable to remove her gaze from the room that held such hideous memories for her. She'd thought she was over it, that she'd dealt with it, but on the way here, bringing Ace, she felt the queasiness start, the alternating flashes of hot and cold, the panic battering at her mind, and had almost sent the girl on ahead without her. But Tegan Jovanka was no coward; the one time she'd tried running away, it had been an unmitigated disaster.

"You don't know that." Ace's voice had gone back to its normal pitch, but still filled with desperation. "We don't know what's important and what isn't. We don't bloody well know anything!" She punched the wall in frustration, scraping her knuckles raw. She ignored the blood and focused on Tegan. A small part of her knew she was badgering the woman, perhaps needlessly, but the rest of her was filled with frustrated rage. The Master wasn't there, and Tegan was. It was as simple as that.

Tegan stared at her, at this young girl, at the fear and anger manifested on her face, stared at her and knew, deep in her bones, that she would not give up until she'd learned what she wanted to know. Even though, Tegan knew, the telling would do nothing in her search for her child. With a half-gasp, half-sob, Tegan spoke.