"Master?" Rose gasped.
"Yes, that's right. Master. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He casually reached for the console and flipped a lever. The central shaft lit up.
"No!" shouted Rose. "I don't want to go anywhere. Let me out!" She lunged for the door.
But the Master had already set his TARDIS in motion. "Tut tut, my dear. There's no need to be rude. You may step outside, if you insist. But I'm afraid it will be a one-way trip."
Rose let go of the door handle. She turned towards the Master and scowled deeply at him, her fists clenched. "This isn't funny," she hissed. "Take me back, right now!"
"In time, little one, in time. I've one or two things to attend to first."
"Like WHAT?"
"Oh...exacting a bit of revenge," said the Master, with a satisfied smile. "The Time Lords tortured me. I shall obliterate them from existence. A reasonable exchange, don't you think?"
Rose gaped at him. "You...you...you can't. You're joking!"
"Not at all. Only recently, the Time Lords made it very easy to travel back and forth in Gallifrey's ancient history. Ergo, it will be a simple matter indeed for me to destroy Rassilon, thus preventing the rise of the Time Lords--the only race in the universe who could possibly imprison me, harm me, or hinder me in any way. Therefore they must be destroyed."
"But you're a Time Lord, too, aren't you? If you prevent their development, won't that destroy you?"
The Master frowned, but didn't reply, as if he hadn't quite considered that possibility.
Feeling somewhat encouraged, Rose went on, "If you want a universe without any Time Lords, it's simple. Piece of cake. I'm from a parallel universe where all the Time Lords were killed in a war. All you have to do is open up a rift, and there you are."
"Is that really so? No Time Lords?" said the Master, his dark eyes shining. "Excellent! Then parallel pressure makes my task here that much more straightforward."
"Parallel...pressure?"
"You are a very stupid child. In highly simplified terms, it means that if the Time Lords have died in your parallel universe, they are more easily destroyed in mine. And that includes the Doctor."
"No," said Rose. "He'll find a way to stop you."
"Possibly, possibly," agreed the Master, with a wry smile. "He does often manage to thwart my plans. However, by significantly deranging the timeline, I may well destroy his most powerful weapon."
"He never carries weapons," Rose said quickly, then regretted it.
"Yes, yes I know," he said, waving her off dismissively. "I was referring to his mind; or, more precisely, his memory."
"You're mad," said Rose. "He's the most absent-minded--"
"Absent-minded or no, the Doctor can remember the future. It has taken me a very long time to work it out: but the reason he always seems to hit upon the right solution; the reason he, despite impossible odds, always seems to prevail; and the reason he persists in beating me, despite my vastly superior intellect, is that he can remember what is going to happen. He doesn't remember it consciously, of course; but the talent is sufficient that he can usually intuit the right course of action. In any case," the Master added, "even if altering the timeline doesn't do the trick, I have other means of destroying him..."
"Well, this is all really interesting, but why bring me along? Won't I get in your way?"
"I brought you here principally out of spite. It will distress the Doctor tremendously when he discovers I've taken one of his companions, especially as he has no means of rescuing you."
"No, we've only just met," Rose protested. "He doesn't care about me, he won't miss me--in fact, he probably won't even notice I'm gone."
"Wrong on three, Rose." The Doctor stepped into the Control Room, and gazed at her with a wounded expression. "I realise it's only been a few days, but surely you know me better than that."
"Doctor!" cried Rose, in ecstatic relief.
"Doctor!" cried the Master, under the influence of somewhat different emotions. "How--how did you find--"
"You didn't really think that the Time Lords would allow you to escape a maximum security prison and the hospital without putting a homing beacon on your TARDIS? All I had to do was rig a little device to track you through the Time Vortex and transmat onto your TARDIS." He twirled his sonic screwdriver through his fingers and winked at Rose.
The Master's jaw dropped. He sputtered for a moment, then snarled, "No matter! You are here, in my power, exactly where I want you."
"In your power? Ha! All that nonsense you spouted about my remembering the future? You might try to remember the past. You can never beat me, I am--"
"Your little friend reminded me that you are always unarmed," said the Master, silkily. He snapped his fingers. A long, black, pointed probe slid into his hand.
The Doctor's eyes widened, and he faltered for a split second. Then, recovering himself, he said, "If you think a dendritic disruptor is going to frighten me, you are very much--"
"Brave words, Doctor." He smiled unpleasantly. "However, I think the prospect of having your mind ripped away piece by piece--and being aware of it as it happens--frightens you very much."
"N-no," said the Doctor, backing away, "you are the one who should be afraid. I've proven over and over again that I don't need illegal weapons to defeat you, and that--"
"And the other thing I remember, Doctor, is NOT TO LET YOU TALK!" The Master squeezed his probe, which sent out a black plume of energy. The Doctor immediately ducked and sprang away. But there was little cover in the open, uncluttered control room. Desperately, the Doctor clutched at anything that might block the Master's barrage. His fingers closed on the handle of a golden shield, which had been propped up in the corner. He held the shield up in front of him, just barely blocking another black energy plume.
At that moment, the golden shield began to vibrate, filling the room with a clear, bell-like tone. The tone settled into a standing wave about the Doctor. Every plume of energy the Master fired at the Doctor was disrupted and dispersed.
"Aha! Rassilon's ultimate weapon," the Doctor exclaimed gleefully. "The best offense is a perfect defense. I knew there was a reason I was fond of Rassilon, apart from his discovering time travel, establishing our society..."
"I know your weakness," hissed the Master. He caught hold of Rose. "Throw down the shield, Doctor, or I destroy her mind."
"Don't do it, Doctor!" cried Rose.
"I...I'm putting it down," said the Doctor, releasing his grasp. The shield fell to the floor with a clang.
"Now," said the Master, pointing his probe at the Doctor, who swallowed hard. "Finally, I shall be the one doing the talking. You, Doctor, have the unique distinction of being my most worthy adversary. I confess...some part of me is sorry to see it all come to an end. But, finally, inevitably, you have lost. And I mean to make my victory over you complete. First, I will destroy your companion's mind, and you will witness her agony. Then I will destroy yours, and you will feel yourself--excruciatingly--wither away to nothingness. Finally, I will totally and utterly eradicate the Time Lords from existence. And there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop me!"
"No, perhaps I can't," said the Doctor, who had been secretly retrieving something from his pocket during the Master's speech. "But they can." He bowled a white sphere at the Master. It cracked open instantly, emitting more spheres. They rose up on metal legs and swarmed.
"NO!" cried the Master, trying vainly to bat them away. Rose wrestled from his grasp. The Doctor caught her in his arms and swung her away.
"Nursebots!" gasped Rose, "Did you..."
"Yes, I...might have reprogrammed them...ever so slightly," said the Doctor, a smug smile playing at the corners of his lips.
The nursebots unhooked the Master's trousers and took down his pants. Amid his screams of protest, one drove its enormous syringe attachment into the Master's backside. He yelped once; and then collapsed, unconscious.