Chapter 1-Gambit
The light engulfed them, flaring and swallowing them up as the mansion behind them faded. They were leaving the universe at large and entering a separate world, one doomed to have its legacy burn.
The Master hadn't thought this through. It seemed like a good idea to the furious, hate-filled version of himself that caused this situation, but now that reality was setting in, he was beginning to regret his decision.
It was taking some time for him to process, but the Master was slowly realizing the implications of what he had just done. First and foremost was the fact that he had just saved the Doctor. His oldest enemy, and he had saved his life. It hadn't been his main goal, but it happened and that's what mattered. Next came Rassilon and just how much he hated that man. Everything in his life, all that had happened from his initiation onward, had been caused by those wretched drums. His little spat with the Doctor paled in comparison to what he wanted to do to Rassilon. Finally, the reality of his existence and its ceasing to be was starting to hit him. The Master had made a sacrifice, gotten himself sucked into an inescapable War, and was soon going to die. The only consolation he got was that Rassilon would also die, and he was going to suffer just as much as the rest of them.
If only he should be so lucky.
That smirk on the Lord President's face seemed to suggest that he wouldn't go down without a fight. He should have known that Rassilon wouldn't just die. He would find a way to survive, and he would make the Master suffer through every instant.
"Restrain him," Rassilon ordered, and two Time Lords the Master didn't recognize grabbed his arms and held them behind his back. His captors hadn't been in the mansion, and they seemed bewildered at the High Council's sudden return. They were fairly young, and the Master almost pitied the poor, naive souls. Almost. They were at an age where they should still be attending the Academy, and the Master couldn't help but wonder if perishing in the Time War was the more merciful fate.
"Oh give it up already, Rassilon," said the Master, rolling his eyes. He should have been afraid of the President, but he was still so furious that the best he could manage was a sarcastic sort of calm. "We're all going to die and there's nothing you can do. You're beat."
It was amazing, really, how quickly Rassilon had regained control of the situation. Just moments before he had been on his knees as the Master blasted him with his mysterious, life-draining energy. Now he was Lording it over the weakened Master, preparing some horrible fate for him.
The Master should have been in a rage. He should have been seething and kicking and screaming. He could easily overpower the two young Time Lords restraining him, and what was the worst thing they could do to him if he escaped, anyway? Instead he just wanted to be left alone. Oh, how he was exhausted. This body was already dying and sending the Time Lords back into the War had taken a lot out of him. His final moments were going to be lived out on Gallifrey, and he wanted to just die in peace. Sure, his planet was ravaged by war, but it was still his home, and there were worse places to meet his end. He had died before, but this time he would accept it. Finally he could rest peacefully.
Vaguely he wondered if the Doctor realized what was going on. Probably not, the ignorant git. He was probably too busy rejoicing about his precious Earth's salvation to spend any time dwelling on the Master's inevitable fate. The Doctor owed him so much.
Rassilon spoke again, drawing the Master out of his hopes for a peaceful end. "My Lord Master," he said, hatred dripping off of every word. "You were to be our salvation, but ultimately you have failed. You are of no use to us anymore."
"Well, I should say," the Master agreed. "You know, I was willing and eager to help you. You could have accepted and the universe could have been ours. Instead you insulted me and look where that's got us. Now, please, can you release me and just let me die in peace?"
Perhaps he would seek out his old childhood home and die where he grew up. He wondered if the mighty House of Oakdown still stood. If it didn't, then at the very least he could die on his own land.
"Death would be far too kind a fate for a wretch such as you," Rassilon spat. "There is still enough time before the Doctor ends the War to ensure you endure ample suffering."
The Master groaned. He had been afraid of that. So much for Oakdown as his final resting place. Still, he wasn't going down without a fight.
"Oh come now, Lord President, be reasonable," he coaxed. "If anyone here deserves to suffer, it's the Doctor. Haven't I suffered enough at your hand? After all, I did live a life of madness because you needed a link to the universe outside the Time Lock. I faced countless defeats and the hands of my oldest friend and most powerful enemy because of you, is that not humiliation enough?" His strength was returning and he was beginning to seethe on the inside, but he kept his voice even and light as he tried to make Rassilon see reason.
"Alas, we do not have the Doctor at our disposal, so we shall make do with you in his absence." The Doctor owed him more and more by the second. "I can however, at the very least, grant you a single mercy."
Rassilon raised his hand and the Master's eyes widened. He had almost forgotten about that glove of power the President wore. The Gauntlet of Rassilon, it was probably called. The Gauntlet began to glow, and for a moment nothing happened. The Master furrowed his brow in confusion, but as the glove's power began to take effect, he let out a gasp.
One. Two. Three. Four.
They were softer than they had been before.
One... Two... Three... Four...
They were fading.
One...
Two...
Three...
The Master held his breath...
But the fourth drumbeat never came.
A thin smile spread across Rassilon's lips. He just watched the Master. He just waited. He waited for a reaction. The Master refused to react. Partially, it was because he didn't want to give the President the satisfaction. Mostly it was because he didn't know how. He didn't know how to react to this sudden development. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel about their sudden absence. They had driven him mad. All his life he had detested them. Now they were gone and he felt...
Empty.
The Lord President giveth. The Lord President taketh away.
When it became evident that the Master had nothing to say on the matter, Rassilon simply tilted his head upwards in triumph. 'That's right,' the Master thought. 'You savour your small victories. I was always just a tool. To you I mean nothing. Well, we'll just see about that.' He didn't know when, and he didn't know how, but he would make Rassilon pay. Every atrocity the Lord President had committed would be atoned for. Somehow, the Master would see it done.
"Take him to the Infinity Chamber," Rassilon ordered, and the matter was settled.
The Master was not to simply die like the rest of the Time Lords; such a luxury would not be granted to him by the Infinity Chamber. The Infinity Chamber, where he was likely expected to spend eternity, was a room that contained a Time Loop. It existed outside of Time and would therefore not be affected by the Time Lock and the rest of the planet's destruction. The plan was to lock up the Master in the Chamber and leave him to die, over and over and over, enduring great suffering forever.
The Master, however, had other plans.
He was going to escape.
It wasn't much of a plan, really, but it was a start, and preferable to being imprisoned in the Infinity Chamber. Over the centuries he had schemed and plotted and planned, and he had been defeated every single time, usually by the Doctor. Conversely, the Doctor never seemed to have a plan. He just sort of made a general guideline and filled in the deatails as he went, and his success rate far outshone the Master's own. Perhaps taking a page out of the Doctor's book would do him some good. The worst thing that could happen if he only escaped the Infinity Chamber was that he would die, and that was looking like a pretty welcome option right about now.
The same two young Time Lords who had restrained him before were leading the Master through the Capitol, presumably towards his fate. They were gripping his arms just a little bit too tight, and he could feel his sweatshirt dampen from the sweat on their palms. They were nervous, and they did not want to be a part of this, the Master could tell. Perhaps he could use their reluctance to his advantage.
"So. Some Time War, hey?" he said, conversationally.
"Umm..." one of them stammered. "Yes?"
"How has life been on Gallifrey these days? It's been such a long time since I've left, I need to catch up. I mean, when I left things were getting pretty hellish, so it appears not a whole lot has changed. Still, this is better than another day at the Academy, don't you think?"
His escorts' faces paled as he spoke, and they said nothing in return. The Master continued.
"I envy the two of you, really, I do. You got out of the Academy early, you got to work with Lord Rassilon himself, and now you get to die all nice and normal like while I'm doomed for all eternity."
The grip loosened on one of his arms. The Master went in for the kill.
"This kind of life must be a dream for young Time Lords such as yaaaarrrrrggghh!"
He didn't get to finish since his speech was cut off by a searing jolt of pain in his side. The young Time Lord who stood to his right was holding a small stun device, much like a taser back on Earth. He looked a little shocked at what he had done, but he quickly donned a poker face and gripped the Master's arm once more.
"Sorry sir," he squeaked. "We're not supposed to let you talk to us."
That was just as well. It turned out the Master wasn't quite as good at talking his way out of things as the Doctor was. As for overpowering the two of them, he wasn't sure he would be able to succeed in such an endeavour in the state he was currently in. They were all but dragging him along the corridor now.
The Master had to think fast. It was only a matter of time before they reached the Infinity Chamber. All he had to do was get away from these two before they got there. After that... well he only had to avoid recapture until the Doctor used the Moment and he could finally be free. Perhaps he could hypnotize them into letting him go. He hadn't hypnotized anyone in a while...
"Halt."
His escape plans were interrupted by a female voice. The woman was hooded and her face was obscured. She reached into her robes and pulled out a gun. "Release him."
"Ma'am," one of the young Time Lords said, putting on a brave face at the sight of the weapon. "We are escorting this prisoner to the Infinity Chamber, if you don't mind."
"Yes, I understand, but there has been a change in plans."
The other boy looked skeptical. "Look, our orders came from the Lord President himself, we really can't-"
The hooded woman fired the gun and the boy fell silent. She fired the gun one more time and the other boy released the Master. He fell forward, still stunned and unable to support his own weight. The woman removed her hood and rushed forward, catching him as he fell. Slowly, she lowered him to his knees and supported his weight on her shoulder. The Master looked up and found himself facing a Time Lady he recognized, though he did not know exactly who she was. She had been there at the Naismith mansion with the High Council, eyes covered while the Time Lords took their last stand. She had defied the others and aided the Doctor, making the Master simultaneously respect and loathe her. He probably knew her from some past life, but she refused to let him know who she was, blocking off the telepathic courtesy identifier Time Lords shared.
"They're only sleeping," the woman muttered, regarding the two young Time Lords. The Master wouldn't have been bothered either way.
"Who are you?" the Master asked, not really expecting an answer.
"Hush, that is a secret for another Time," she whispered, her mouth very close to his ear. Her words were soothing and comforting, and the Master couldn't help but trust her. She had, after all, just saved his death. "Time is running out, and there is something you must do, Lord Master." He felt her press a cold, round object into his palm. A fob watch. "Word will quickly get out about your escape. You will need to hide. Find a Chameleon Arch and disguise yourself as a human. You will need to return to Earth and find the Doctor. Rassilon has greater and more devastating plans than you can imagine. He will escape this and wreak havoc upon creation, and the Doctor is the only one who can stop him. Rassilon knows this, and he will utilise every advantage he has in to stop the Doctor no matter what the cost. I cannot tell you when or where the Lord President will emerge when he breaks the Time Lock, but use the Doctor to find him. It is up to you both to save the universe."
The Master scowled. This woman, who wouldn't even tell him who she was, had the nerve to ask him to save the Doctor again when all he wanted was to die on his home planet. Then again, she did mention Rassilon, and if he had the chance to make him pay, then perhaps rescuing and teaming up with the Doctor wasn't such a bad idea after all...
"But how? The War is Time Locked. Escape is impossible."
He felt the woman press another object into his other hand. "Take this. You will know what to do with it when the time comes." She paused and looked him in the eye. "No, I cannot tell you who I am, and you cannot tell the Doctor that I was the one who saved you. He would never forgive you, me, or himself if he knew that I did not escape while I had the chance. I am sorry to ask this of you, but this is a task you simply must accomplish. Good luck, Lord Master. There is more at stake here than you can possibly imagine."
Let us take a moment to discuss Rassilon, Lord President of Gallifrey. Without this man, the universe would be a much different place. Rassilon the immortal, the pioneer of Time Lord society, had never regarded himself as a villain, and neither did most of the universe. In fact, some even went so far as to regard him as a hero. Without him the Time Lords would have never existed. He was the first to instill the policy of non-intervention, and had always been determined to keep the universe in some sort of balance. I quite like the guy myself; his non-intervention and balance policies kept things nice and simple for me. There was minimal fluxiness to the Timestream and things a lot more linear and a lot less wibbley-wobbley. So no, Rassilon is not evil.
He does, however, possess that volatile combination of brilliance and madness.
For most of his life, the madness hadn't been quite so bad. His brilliance far surpassed his madness, but that one little spark of insanity allowed him to think outside the box and achieve all those great things he did. However everything changed during the Time War, and he developed the most dangerous ratio of brilliance to madness in existence: equal proportions of each. This led to him planning the Ultimate Sanction, which had ultimately been defeated by the Doctor.
Brilliant as the Ultimate Sanction was, it was, in fact, a product born solely from his madness. His brilliance came into play in what followed his defeat.
Rassilon knew that a plan relying on the Doctor and the Master involved a great deal of risk. Naturally, the success of the Ultimate Sanction was the preferred outcome, but Rassilon was a man who always had a backup plan – one that the rest of the High Council knew nothing about. Preserving the society he had worked so hard to create was his primary goal but should that fail, he had decided on revenge as his secondary goal. There were indeed fates worse than death, but Rassilon refused to die if only to inflict these fates on others, primarily the Doctor and the Master.
The trick was escaping the Time Lock, because doing so was nearly impossible and highly dangerous. Creating the link with the outside world through the drums and the star was perhaps a bit of a convoluted plan, but it was the safest way to proceed. There were other ways to escape, and Rassilon knew that every lock has a key – even a Time Lock.
Three keys to the Time Lock existed on Gallifrey. There were only three keys because it could be unlocked using such a key only three times; any more an the universe would lose integrity and collapse in on itself. This meant that strict precautions had to be taken with these keys. Rassilon himself had developed them, and he was the only person who knew about their existence. He had created three as an emergency protocol. All he needed was one, which he kept close by at all times. He created the other two in case he decided to take someone with him, and to maintain his own control over their use.
Gallifrey's hope was now lost. This was a fact that the Time Lords knew and accepted. None of them wanted their planet to burn and none of them wanted to die, but they all knew the horrors of the war and they all wanted it to finally end. There was so much suffering every second, and the sooner that ceased, the sooner the universe could continue to turn on its own. Certainly it would be a more dangerous place without the Time Lords' presence, but it was better than the alternative. They understood this, and they accepted their fate.
Rassilon would have too, but now that he had a mission, one that he was so single-minded in completing, not even every horror of the Time War could stop him now.
When the woman had finished, the Master had regained his strength and was ready to run.
He really didn't want to carry out his task. He had lived as a human before and swore to himself that never again would he stoop to the level of that mongrel little species. He also didn't want to escape the Time Lock. He owed the universe nothing, and he should just let it perish. The only reason he pressed on was Rassilon. He repeated that cursed name in his head, over and over again, as he ran. He would make the Lord President pay, even if it was the last thing he ever did. Probably it would be.
What filled him with the most trepidation about his escape, however, was the fact that he would once again have to face the Doctor. He really, really didn't want to have to deal with him just yet. The Master knew the Doctor a little bit better than he cared to admit, and he knew that the Doctor's massive guilt complex would make him utterly unbearable.
The fact was that the High Council could have chosen either one of them to send the drums to. Both the Doctor and the Master had been on Earth, outside of the Time Lock, and it was purely by chance that they had been sent to him. He was positive that the Doctor understood this, and hated what they had done to the Master. The Doctor knew that it could have been him who had to live with that forced madness, and probably he thought that it should have been him. The Doctor always did like to blame himself for everything.
Now that he knew the truth about his condition, the true ramifications of what they had done were starting to sink in. What kind of life could he have led? The drums had began so long ago, almost before he could even remember. Eight years old was so very young... He wasn't sure what kind of boy he had been, or what that had ever said about who he could have become. Would he have travelled the universe as the Doctor's friend and equal? Would he have risen to power here on Gallifrey?
Would he have still gone mad and become evil?
It was difficult to imagine himself as anything other than an evil madman. That was who he had been for his entire life, a dark and malicious being. Could he have ever been any different? The Doctor always seemed to think so, and he was always determined to see him as a friend. To the Doctor they had never stopped being Theta Sigma and Koschei of the Deca at the Time Lord Academy, and there was always the chance that they could be friends once more. Could the Master really become a good man, the one the Doctor seemed to think that he was capable of becoming? Now, without the drums, he would have to face that possibility.
Just dying would be so much simpler.
The Master stopped running when he found a Chameleon Arch. A row of them hung on a wall, labelled "Chameleon Arch." Below that was another sign that read "In case of emergency." If this wasn't an emergency, he wasn't sure what was. The Master plucked an Arch off the wall, set it to "Human," and was about to use it when he froze, noticing a flaw in his plan. Even though he made a perfectly brilliant human, his mind would still be so painfully slow when he changed. How the hell was he supposed to know what to do?
He reached into his pocket and dug out the other item the woman had given to him. It was small and round and shiny, feeling cool against his palm and oddly light in his hand. "What's this supposed to be then, the Ball Bearing of Rassilon?" he muttered to himself. It was supposed to help him escape, but he had no idea how. He was still convinced that breaking free of the Time Lock was impossible.
The Master thought quickly and grabbed some parchment and a pen. Hopefully he would have enough residual awareness to realize why he was back on Earth, but just in case he would make himself a few notes that would help him remember his task.
Writing quickly, he wrote down a few key points. First, find a way off of Gallifrey. Next, find the Doctor and save him. That was his job once he arrived on Earth. Then he wrote down what to look for when searching for the Doctor. A quick description of his current appearance was included, but he also noted that he could look different. The biggest giveaway was the big, blue box. Hopefully by then he would be back to his good old, two-hearted self again, so he decided against confusing his human alter ego with anything about Rassilon and the danger he posed.
"Well, here goes nothing."
The Master placed the Arch on his head and sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself for what he knew was about to come. Sudden blinding pain erupted in every cell in his body as they changed from Time Lord to human.