Emperor's New Clothes

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He fell back against the wall, grunting as he panted. He looked down at his hand, his new hand. His new fingers clutched at the device there. It was dead, drained of power. He gritted his teeth. Those bastard cardinals how dare they do this to him. He'd brought Gallifrey back from the penumbra of reality, saved them from destruction, overthrew that odious tyrant and this was how they thanked him. He snorted slightly. Never expect gratitude from Time Lords.

Now he was hunted. Now he was Gallifrey's most wanted. He grimaced, no, not true he was the second most wanted. He was always the second banana. All of his life he'd been second best to that man. He heard the echoed shouts of the chancellery guards. He pushed off of the grimy brick wall and pushed himself forward. He had to get to a charging station, he had to power the vortex manipulator. He had to get offworld. His legs were still rubbery from the regeneration. His mind was still ablaze with a million thoughts and the burning rage of his last body's demise. He skidded to a stop. The sound of marching military footsteps. He spun around.

He knew the general, he knew the cardinals, he knew the castellan. The soldiers he didn't know but he knew soldiers when he saw them. The last one was new, he didn't know that one but he recognized the seal that was clipped to the person's flowing red robes. He sneered in annoyance as the person walked forward.

"So, I think we need to have a little chat, Lord Master." The person said. He was an old man, extremely old, though thanks to regeneration he looked significantly less old than he truly was.

"I have nothing to say to you." he spat back to the old man. "Nothing you can't already know. You lived in my head for how long, has it been?"

"Lived is a generous term for being locked away in that prison in your mind." The old man said the man's cold blue eyes peering through him. "To suffer your madness for those years…I almost pity you."

He looked to the accumulated Time Lords around the old man. "Why? Why do this? Why go back to him!? I did this for you!"

"You did it for yourself." The general said, stepping forward. "The years we spent trapped in that shadow of the universe were hell, people going hungry, people sick and tired and losing the will to live, and yet you were in the presidential suite, living in opulence. As we worked like slaves, you plotted, you schemed, and to what end?"

"To get us free, to return us to our position in the sky!" he shouted at the general. "I was your master! You were my people! Together we would stride back into reality and forge a new empire!"

"We know of your plans." one of the cardinals said. The Master snarled as he looked at the cardinal. It had been the cardinal that had cut off his arm whilst he was strapped to that bed. "We know why you did this. It wasn't for us, it wasn't for Gallifrey, it wasn't to forge a new empire. It was so you could continue your petty war with the renegade!"

"So you go back to him!" The Master pointed to the old man. "How did you even do it!?"

"Biological metacrisis…" the cardinal said. "But we needed a bit of your biology to graft the regeneration energy to…"

"And since I existed within your consciousness I simply hitched a ride with the energy. Becoming the mind of the metacrisis event." the old man said smirking as he lifted his hand. The one that the Master had once owned, a metallic gauntlet covered the hand. "You should be more thorough if you're going to try and eat someone, make sure you completely digest them before getting complacent…"

"You really think he'll be much better than me?" The Master growled glaring at the attending Time Lords. He looked to the general. "You, you don't think he'll figure out your secrets? He won't find out about your secret hatred for him? He knows everything I know, now, including all those admissions. Do you think he'll just let you continue?"

"We've already spoken about that." The old man said, looking back to the general. "We've come to our own agreement on that front."

The Master shook his head and smirked and then looked up to the old man. "But beyond the general's little marching band, and the rest of the Time Lords who don't want what you're selling, the distraught and disorganized rabble that I brought back into order and power…there's still him. Before your gutless cowards mutilated me, we enacted the last part of my plan, we gave him a recharge…and trust me, when he finds out you're back, he'll come for you, and he's got a belly full of fire."

"Ah, now see, that's the interesting part of this all." The old man said walking forward. "As far as we can tell, he is completely oblivious to us." the old man looked into the Master's eyes. "We're hidden so far beyond the edges of civilization, in the wastage of time, that he'll never think to search. No one will, not him, not the Daleks, no one. That is, until it's too late, but enough about that…let's get to you." The Master growled softly as the old man inspected him and licked his lips slightly a hungry lupine gaze filling his eyes. The old man seemed to catch himself and turned away almost ashamed. "It would be a horrible pain if all of this work we've done were undone by some unruly gossiper." The old man turned and looked at the Master. "Loose lips sink ships after all…"

"So what, you're just going to kill me then?" The Master snarled.

"I'm glad we understand each other on the matter." The old man said. "We need more time. There are enemies out for Gallifrey, predictions of dangerous monsters waiting to rule the Time Lords. We must identity those threats, destroy them before they can hurt us. The last thing we need is you gallivanting around tipping off the rest of the universe to our return. The old man walked back towards the line of soldiers.

The Master growled softly, as the soldiers lifted their weapons, pointing them at the Master. There wasn't much time. The Master sneered. The rifles were all using retro-enfolded Artron Energy. The vortex manipulator used the same power source. A plan formed in his head.

The old man lifted his hand. The metal gauntlet covering it was splayed open. The rifles whined to life. The old man closed his metal gauntleted hand into a fist and the rifles fired. The Master winced as he was thrown backwards.

His body crashed and rolled across the grassy field. He cringed and reached up feeling his abdomen. One of the bastards had gotten lucky. The manipulator didn't absorb all the blast. A gaping bleeding hole was steaming in his stomach, the black fabric of his shirt was darker now, wetter, stickier. He bit his lip as he looked around. He was in the middle of nowhere on an unknown world. He gritted his teeth. He didn't have long. The trick will have kept them confused for a bit, but undoubtedly Rassilon will review any surveillance of the event. Rassilon'd figure it out and then the Time Lords would be after him. He had to try and throw them off of the scent, even for a little while longer.

He gritted his teeth as he stood. There was one way. It wasn't done often, only in emergencies, and rarely by accident. It would alter his biodata enough though than any long distance scan by the Time Lords would be confused. He had to try it. He would survive. He would get his revenge, on the Doctor and the Time Lords, one way or another.

He could feel the burning of it welling up from the depths of his cells. His head flung back as orange erupted upwards and outwards in all directions and he screamed a primal scream as he directed his body to change. The light faded. There was an intense wooziness as the world bobbled around. Time Lords had become so proud during the war; the idea of regenerating lying down was disgusting to them now, even though the direct after affects often resulted in injury. It took some time to brace the new body against the planet's alien gravity. Staggering footsteps led to a stream several meters away. Knees dropped to the ground and eyes peered into the reflective surface of the water.

It'd worked. The hair needed to be done, and appropriate cosmetics applied to complete the ensemble, and some new clothes but it had worked. She smiled at her reflection in the water, laughing.

"Well, then…" The Mistress said to herself. "Let's get dangerous…."

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AN: This is a sequel to the chapter….Tomorrow's Beginning - Going Home. It is part of my head cannon that tries to make sense of what's happened with Gallifrey, the Master and apparently Rassilon (as of Hell Bent). Go read it…figure out that it's supposed to be the Master (after the end of End of Time) transported back to Gallifrey with the Time Lords, defeated and ate Rassilon gained his immortality and plots his revenge tour against the Doctor…then come back….read this…tell me what you think, I guess. It's self-indulgent….but this whole fic is self-indulgence.

And yes…that's a Darkwing Duck reference…..don't judge.