Per the most recent series, the Master can create perception filters unaided. Is anyone surprised? I wasn't, but I really like that it's Canon now.
Chapter 10
The drumbeats rose like the tide as the Master stared out into the dark, watching the flames, listening to the sounds of battle growing closer.
He turned back to the Doctor who was frantically wiring something insane together.
"Doctor, you'd better hurry," he said.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" the Doctor responded, picking up three components in rapid succession before choosing a fourth.
The Master hopped down from the crate he had pushed up against the window. "We'll hold them off," he informed his friend. "Come on, K-9."
"Affirmative," K-9 replied.
The Doctor just waved distractedly and grunted at the interruption.
Once outside, he and K-9 split up, the Master focusing on being unseen.
Not many Time Lords could create their own perception filters unaided.
The Master had never understood why more people didn't try to learn.
It really wasn't that difficult. It was just a matter of letting people see what they expected to see... And then making certain that wasn't you.
He hid, darting through the shadows of the dancing flames, picking off the forerunners of the invasion one by one before they even had a chance to react.
It was fun.
But slightly too easy...
He stepped out of the darkness right in front of an isolated Hath soldier, just to see the look on its face before he killed it.
"Hi," the Master smiled, gun raised.
The Hath took its last moment to bubble in surprise before the Master used his weapon to shrink the amphibious humanoid down to the size of a toy, crushing its tissues to an impossible density.
Death by compression.
Neat. Efficient. Unique.
And very cool.
The Master took just a few milliseconds to appreciate his own handiwork before melting away again into the background.
He hid against the half-demolished wall which had probably been a house not long ago, sharp blue eyes searching for more enemies.
K-9 rolled up next to him in the rubble.
Perception filters didn't work on mindless robots. Which, like everything else about the Doctor's dog, was slightly annoying.
"Report," K-9 said loudly.
"Shh!" the Master hissed. K-9 did have a volume control... Which he seldom chose to utilize. "You'll give away our position. Come on, seriously. That's just basic."
"Report," K-9 restarted, unphased. "Enemy combatants successfully pushed back to a minimum radius of 1.3 miles."
"Oh," the Master squinted, now speaking at a normal volume. "You sure?"
K-9 spun his ears back and forth, scanning. "Affirmative."
"Ok, then," the Master said, dropping his perception filter. "Good job," he smiled to his partner. "They didn't stand a chance," he chuckled.
"Affirmative," K-9 agreed smugly. "Odds calculated as overwhelmingly in our favor."
"As usual," the Master winked, one hand resting possessively on the robot's head.
K-9 wagged his wire tail. "Suggest we rejoin the Doctor-master," K-9 said.
The Master rolled his eyes as he turned to walk back to check on the Doctor. "It's weird that you call him that," he said for the millionth time. "It makes it sound like we're the same person. We're not the same person. You know we're not the same person, right?"
"Negative," K-9 disagreed. "Name: Doctor. Designation: master."
The Master wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Why can't you just say, the Doctor?" he asked with a wide gesture. "Doctor," he explained, pointing towards their destination. "Master," he said, pointing to himself. "It's not that hard."
They argued until the Master got tired of losing and kicked K-9's metal body with his steel-toed boot, enjoying the resulting loud clang. A symbolic victory, perhaps, as it didn't cause any real damage. But still better than nothing.
"How's it going?" the Master asked as they reentered the building.
The Doctor was standing back from his device. It looked far from complete... Though with the Doctor it could be very hard to tell for sure.
"Why this planet?" the Doctor asked with a frown.
The Master blinked, nonplussed. "How should I know?"
The Doctor gave him a weird look. "You set the coordinates."
"Did I?" the Master asked, thinking back. It seemed like a long time ago.
"Who gave you this location?" the Doctor asked suspiciously.
The Master immediately knew the answer to that question. "Rassilon," he said.
The Doctor nodded, suspicions confirmed. "He wants something here. Did he say anything else, anything about why?"
The Master thought hard, trying to place any useful details. "I don't think so..." he frowned. He was having trouble recalling specifics.
Which was... Unusual for him.
The Doctor and K-9 were discussing scanning, power sources.
The Master moved to the window, trying to focus.
He watched the flames outside, listening to his heartbeats. He could hear Rassilon's voice just beneath them.
He could nearly make out the words...
Just out of reach...
"It's a weapon," the Doctor's voice cut through the haze.
"What?" the Master blinked.
"This entire planet. It's a weapon," the Doctor said grimly. "That's why he sent us here."
The Master shook his head, responding to the uncertainty in his friend's gaze. "I didn't know," he said sincerely.
The Doctor nodded, accepting this. "We can't let him have it. We can't let anyone have it."
"But..." the Master said carefully, "If it would help to win the War..."
"No," the Doctor said emphatically. "It won't. Kill a few Daleks along with countless billions of innocent lives?" He shook his head with finality. "That isn't winning."
The Master took a deep breath. He couldn't quite agree but the Doctor made the rules when it came to means and ends. Not because he was in charge or because he knew best...
Simply because no victory was worth the Doctor not being the Doctor anymore.
"Ok then," the Master agreed, writing off yet another opportunity for Universal domination. "So how do we disable it?"
The Doctor started talking, thinking aloud, running through options. Trying to work out a way to defuse the weapon without killing everyone on the entire planet in the process.
The sound of the Doctor's voice faded away under the rising drumbeats.
The Master watched from a distance as the Doctor pulled up specs on the weapon. Power levels, location, controls...
The Doctor had his back turned to his friend. The Master found his gaze drawn to a brick on the floor, debris from the War outside.
Then it was in his hand.
The Master stared at it in silent alarm.
The drums filled his head, trying to drown him out.
He needed that weapon...
Not for himself.
For Rassilon.
"Whatever the cost," the President had said.
So that was the choice then: the weapon or the Doctor.
There was no question.
But the compulsion was strong.
"K-9," the Master called, scarcely above a whisper. It was difficult.
But K-9 heard immediately and rolled close.
"K-9," the Master said calmly, eyes glued to the Doctor as he decoded the weapon's systems. "I need you to shoot me."
"Negative," K-9 said flatly. "Orders to protect."
"Just stun," the Master clarified. "It's for the Doctor. You need to protect him too, right?"
"Affirmative," K-9 confirmed. "Query: has the juvenile Time Lord been compromised?"
"Yeah," the Master muttered, teeth gritted in effort. "Hurry up, ok?"
He raised the rock against his own will and K-9's stun ray hit him hard.
The Master was sitting in Rassilon's chambers. They were having a very interesting conversation.
At least, it seemed very interesting, even though the Master wasn't quite sure what they were discussing.
He wasn't worried about that.
He wasn't worried about anything, actually.
His mind was pleasantly blank, the beating of his hearts rocking him like a boat on the ocean waves. The rhythm enveloped him in the peace of servitude, of knowing all decisions were already made for him.
"Tell me about the Doctor," Rassilon said.
The Master smiled dreamily, listening to his hearts reverberating through his chest like bass drumbeats. Powerful, unstoppable, familiar. "What would you like to know?" he asked.
"What does he want?" Rassilon inquired.
"Who knows?" the Master replied. It was something he had frequently wondered himself over the centuries. "Sometimes I think he just wants everyone in the Universe to be happy," he added. It was almost too ridiculous to be true. But then, that was the Doctor for you.
"He must have a weakness..." Rassilon mused. "Everyone does. What is the Doctor's?"
The Master paused, wide-eyed, unsure of where to begin.
The Doctor had so many weaknesses: curiosity, idealism, a fixation on childish morality, a total inability to blend in, a woefully short attention span, an insistence on doing things in the most difficult way possible...
"Well?" Rassilon's voice pulled him back from what could have been an entire novel, given enough time. "Answer."
"There are too many," the Master laughed helplessly. "I can't keep track." His thoughts kept running away from him, too complicated for the repetitive four-beat which continually erased them.
"One, then," Rassilon instructed. "Choose one. What is the Doctor's greatest weakness?"
The Master sighed, thinking of all the mistakes the Doctor had ever made.
All the ones he came up with had one thing in common.
"Me," the Master responded.
It was a simplistic answer, certainly.
But Rassilon had said to choose one only.
He couldn't explain, the details far too involved for him to communicate in his current daze.
But he had thought it through.
Everyone assumed they were enemies. Everyone always told the Doctor that they should be, as far back as the Master could recall.
Even when they were children.
"Trouble," they had said he was. "Not good company for you to be keeping."
And others had said the same thing to him as well... About the Doctor.
Unanimously, people who never agreed on anything in their lives had banded together in their dislike of the Doctor and the Master's friendship.
As if it offended them somehow. Or perhaps frightened them.
But still, stubbornly, foolishly, inexplicably, the Doctor stuck by the friend he had chosen.
Through the centuries, through the disasters, despite all voices urging the contrary.
Protecting him when people urged punishment. Defending him when others saw the worst. Arguing with him when no one else would dare.
Visiting him in prison. Accepting his help when things had gone too far. Treating him as a friend even when their agendas clashed completely.
It made no sense.
It was illogical and self-destructive.
Continually risking his life, trusting the person who had nearly killed him so many times.
It was a lot to live up to, having a friend like that.
"Your egotism is astounding," Rassilon said in wonderment.
"Mm," the Master agreed with an unconcerned shrug. He'd heard that said before.
"Well," Rassilon said, "if you are his weakness, then I suppose I am in a perfect position to utilize that."
The Master frowned, the pleasant haziness troubled by an instinct. "How?"
"I'll be sure to let you know when the time comes," Rassilon responded.
The Master woke on the dirt floor.
His head hurt and he tried to rub it with a groan, before realizing his hands and feet were tied.
"Hello," the Doctor said, moving into view. "K-9 seems to think you posed a threat to me. Now, how do you suppose he came to that conclusion?"
"Probably cause I told him," the Master grumbled.
"What were you going to do?" the Doctor asked curiously.
"Knock you out and take control of the weapon... I think," the Master said, frowning. It wasn't quite clear now, though he wouldn't expect it to be.
"Hmm. That does sound very like you," the Doctor said with a touch of humor.
"Ha ha," the Master said dryly. "Would you mind untying me now?"
"You still want to knock me over the head with something heavy?" the Doctor asked.
The Master considered this. "Did you disable the weapon?" the Master asked, glancing at the display.
"Yes," the Doctor said. "I sent the weapon into the Void. Or at least enough of its vital parts that it won't ever cause harm to anyone. This planet is now just a planet again."
"Then no," the Master replied honestly. "No more than usual, anyway," he added with a smirk.
"Hmm," the Doctor said, staring at him intently. "Is that an urge you get often?"
The Master rolled his eyes. "No, I was joking."
The Doctor kept staring.
"Come on, Doctor," the Master said impatiently, "it was clearly something to do with the weapon. Probably a defensive system triggered when you started trying to shut it down or something." He almost believed it as he said it.
It did make perfect sense, really.
"Perhaps." The Doctor still seemed slightly unconvinced.
"So?" the Master asked.
The Doctor gave him one more look and shrugged. "Well. You certainly seem like you." He moved closer and put out both hands towards the Master's face. "May I?" he asked.
The Master breathed a put-upon sigh. "If you must..."
The Doctor psychically connected to his friend, checking his surface motivations, looking for any hidden compulsion to murder his friends.
Finding nothing alarming, he broke the connection.
"Satisfied?" the Master asked.
The Doctor nodded, untying his friend's hands. "You seem to have returned to your normal level of murderous deviousness, yes," the Doctor replied.
"Oh, Doctor," the Master laughed, sitting up to untie his own feet. "You make that sound like such a bad thing."
"Hmph," the Doctor said with a mildly rueful expression. "We're going to need to run now, by the way."
The Master noticed how close the sounds of gunfire were. "That seems like a good idea, yes."
"K-9!" the Doctor called.
The robot rolled in backwards, blaster firing. "Master?"
"Hold them off as long as you can, we'll meet you at the TARDIS," the Doctor instructed.
"Affirmative!" the robot acknowledged.
The Master started to follow the Doctor out the back door, then ran back to kneel down by the dog.
"Thanks, K-9," he whispered.
"Gratitude unnecessary," K-9 responded.
"Come on!" the Doctor waved urgently. "What are you waiting for?"
The Master looked up with a cheeky grin. "I was giving you a head start," he said. "Which you just wasted." He sprinted past the Doctor in the direction of the TARDIS.
Everyone made it back safely and everything continued as normal.
Just another day in the Time War.
The Master didn't think too much about the lost planetary weapon.
But the first chance he got, while the Doctor was distracted, the Master found himself sneaking out of the TARDIS, drawn inexorably towards the President's chambers.
The guards just nodded and let him in.
Was he really here so often...?
But there wasn't time to wonder about that as the doors slammed shut behind him. Rassilon looked angry, his eyes burning colder than usual.
"You failed me," he growled.
"I suppose I did," the Master admitted. Memories slotted back into place. He knew he had been sent to retrieve a superweapon and had instead sat by as it was destroyed.
"Were your instructions not clear?" the President asked dangerously.
The Master considered, recalling the words embedded deep in his subconscious. "No, you were perfectly clear."
"Then what happened?" Rassilon hissed.
The Master thought back to the choice he had made. "The Doctor," he answered. Anyone else wouldn't have figured out Rassilon's agenda. Anyone else would have been nothing in light of the President's commands. "I told you, he's unpredictable," the Master reminded him. "You shouldn't keep underestimating him."
"Keeping the Doctor in line is what you are here for," Rassilon responded. "If you are not up for that task, I shall have to find other methods of controlling him."
"Good luck," the Master muttered.
"Insolence!" the President shouted.
His voice reverberated around the stone chamber and the Master covered his ears in pain.
Rassilon smiled sadistically. "Perhaps you require a reminder of who is truly master here."
He stepped down from his throne. The Master wanted to run but knew he couldn't. So he stood, staring Rassilon right in the eye, trying to hide his fear.
"You seem obstinate in your refusal to learn your place," Rassilon said.
"Yeah," the Master agreed. "I guess I do."
"Then you must accept the pain that comes with your choice," Rassilon pointed out.
"Yeah, I figured," the Master said, bracing himself.
Rassilon lowered his gauntlet-clad hand to rest heavily on the Master's head.
And the pain was worse than he ever could have imagined.
He was burning alive, being torn apart.
He was pretty sure he must be screaming but the drums were all he could hear.
The agony filled every cell of his body until he could scarcely even remember his own name...
But then, under the cacophony was a voice.
Small and quiet.
Not Rassilon's voice.
It was saying he'd done well, that it was proud of him...
He clung to that voice.
It was an eternity before the pain stopped.
The Master found himself curled up on the floor, weak and whimpering.
"You are my creature," Rassilon said from his throne. "I made you and I can unmake you. Remember that."
The Master couldn't speak, couldn't even nod.
"Leave us," Rassilon commanded.
And though every muscle ached, though he was shaking so violently he could barely stand, he dragged himself to his feet and managed to make it outside.
He collapsed against the wall as soon as he rounded the corner.
He knew he couldn't let the Doctor see him like this.
He found a place to hide, making himself as small as possible.
After a while, he felt better and forgot why he was hiding.
So he went home.
I'm really sorry, everyone! [crying] :''( It still gets worse than this. I hate Rassilon so much.