Doctor Who Fic: War and Weapons - Chapter 2
Title: War and Weapons - Chapter 2
Written by: Evilawyer
Chapter Rating: G
Overall Rating: PG-13 so far
Time Frame for Chapter: Post TEoT
Other Temporal Information: AU diversion from canon after Amy's Choice
Characters in this Chapter: The Master (Simm at this juncture); the Rani; a few other Time Lords (see individual chapters for characters in each)
Summary: The Doctor told Amy that he was the Dream Lord. The Doctor lies.
Disclaimer: All characters in this piece of fanfic belong to the BBC.
Notes: Originally started writing this for the Bring Back the Master challenge/fest at
doctor_and_master.
Prior Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1
The Master had never realized how very small the Citadel is. When he was young, before he'd been exiled from Gallifrey, it had seemed vast. After he'd been resurrected to fight the good fight, he hadn't been given the opportunity to investigate its parameters. No, he'd been sent out to the battle as soon as he'd been brought out of Matrix.
Now, he can judge the Citadel's size from the fact that it's a mere few steps down the echoing corridor before he and his guide are in the echoing Council chamber. Or perhaps they aren't echoes. Perhaps it's that his hearing is more acute now that his sight is lost. Or perhaps it's simply that sounds reverberate in his skull now that they are set against a backdrop of silence instead of the drums. It will take some getting used to. He's never known a time when the drums weren't with him.
Except, right now, as he's thinking about it, he realizes that he has known exactly such a time, known it and lived it. He remembers it as though it were yesterday, just as he remembers there never being a time when the drums were not there. They are both burned into his memory. Which is not the way things are supposed to be.
Time is no simple straight linear progression, every child of Gallifrey knows that. The Time Lords have always been able to see that there are many paths that diverge from a single event in Time because they have always understood that Time is elegant and multifaceted. Time, though, for all the variety it provides, has and maintains a natural structure of its own. Oh, Time doesn't mind a bit of chaos every now and then, but it doesn't want to be a wild child. Simply because there are different temporal paths leading away from the same temporal point does not mean that all those paths simultaneously co-exist in a tangible way; it certainly does not mean that they should. Time isn't benign, Time isn't even calm, but it has an order to it, which is something else that the Time Lords have understood ever since Rassilon and Omega harnessed Time's energy. They had even tried, when they weren't being exceedingly boring or politically corrupt, to foster that order with their tedious Laws. Generally, though, Time has always sought out its own order and guarded it jealously. Take that order away? Force Time to do without the structure it wants? You might as well call Time a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-whimey stuff and throw it against a wall just to see if it will make a great big crack in the plaster. Not even the Master, who has never had any use for the Time Lords and their rule-bound ways, ever dreamed of showing Time such disrespect.
“I've brought him,” the Master's guide says to the assembled members of the Council as she takes the Master's hand off her forearm and returns it to his side.
“We can see that,” another female voice responds, sounding none too pleased at having been told the obvious. “How are you feeling?”
“She's talking to you,” his guide says sotto voce as she nudges him in the side when he fails to respond.”
“Bit knackered, if you really want to know,” the Master rallies and answers in the direction of the questioning voice. “Do you think this could wait?”
A third voice, male this time, joins in. “No, it cannot! The situation is far more critical then you seem to realize. We must...”
“That's enough,” the woman who asked how he was feeling orders, sparing the Master from having to hear the rampant fear underlying the man's outraged tone. “I'll advise the Council when this meeting is to be reconvened.”
The Master hears the sound of people standing and shuffling away, along with a small amount of what the Master could swear is grumbling. His guide puts her hand around his upper arm and begins to lead him away. “Not you, Master,” the woman says. She's standing right next to him, now, on the side opposite his guide. “I need a brief, private word with you.”
The Master feels his guide begin to slowly pull her hand away from his arm. He doesn't go into a full panic, but he the thought of having to navigate the room and corridors on his own so soon unnerves him. Before he can say anything, however, the woman says “You may stay, as well, Rani. I think the Master may need some assistance in negotiating his way around. He'll likely need your help in the lab, as well, if what I'm beginning to suspect is true.”
The Rani. The Master should have known. There's only one person who could always convey such impatient ire towards him though the sound of her voice alone.
“I'm no laboratory assistant,” the Rani answers indignantly.
“I think it's fair to say that even you hope he'll be of more use to us than he was when he was first brought out of the Matrix. Besides, it will get you back into the scientific forces, which is exactly where you've told me you want to be.”
“On my own terms, and on my own projects!”
“Which is, as you know, not going to happen. You can't be trusted to safely do the work, especially now.” She pauses, and in her brief silence the Master senses something very like distaste. “Your...handicap... poses too great a risk of accident.”
“Yet I am able to sufficiently serve as laser fodder, my 'handicap' notwithstanding” the Rani says bitterly. “That hardly shows an ability to use the resources available to you to the best effect.”
“Could you please show the Master back to his quarters,” the woman, voice calm and dispassionate, asks. “I'm sure he's still very tired. And have his attendant dim the lights for him. Perhaps his affliction might benefit from rest in a darkened room.”
The Master decides that he'll gain nothing from continuing to hide his condition. “I've had enough of being talked about like I'm not here. And I don't have a migraine. I'm blind, so I'm not going to be piloting any War TARDISES for you this time around. Not that I would anyway. In fact, whoever you are, I'm not exactly feeling like doing anything at all to help you or this sorry lot. As soon as I figure out a way, I'll be through the Time Lock and out of here.”
“You won't if there's no 'here' to get out of. Or anywhere to go once you do.” The woman takes the Master's hand nearest the Rani and puts it on the Rani's forearm, mirroring the Rani's action when she'd prepared to lead him the the Council chamber. “Go get some rest. It won't help your eyes, but you'll need it for the work you'll be facing.”
This entry was originally posted to Dreamwidth at http://evilawyer.dreamwidth.org/119080.html. There are
comments to this post there.
Written by: Evilawyer
Chapter Rating: G
Overall Rating: PG-13 so far
Time Frame for Chapter: Post TEoT
Other Temporal Information: AU diversion from canon after Amy's Choice
Characters in this Chapter: The Master (Simm at this juncture); the Rani; a few other Time Lords (see individual chapters for characters in each)
Summary: The Doctor told Amy that he was the Dream Lord. The Doctor lies.
Disclaimer: All characters in this piece of fanfic belong to the BBC.
Notes: Originally started writing this for the Bring Back the Master challenge/fest at
doctor_and_master.
Prior Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1
The Master had never realized how very small the Citadel is. When he was young, before he'd been exiled from Gallifrey, it had seemed vast. After he'd been resurrected to fight the good fight, he hadn't been given the opportunity to investigate its parameters. No, he'd been sent out to the battle as soon as he'd been brought out of Matrix.
Now, he can judge the Citadel's size from the fact that it's a mere few steps down the echoing corridor before he and his guide are in the echoing Council chamber. Or perhaps they aren't echoes. Perhaps it's that his hearing is more acute now that his sight is lost. Or perhaps it's simply that sounds reverberate in his skull now that they are set against a backdrop of silence instead of the drums. It will take some getting used to. He's never known a time when the drums weren't with him.
Except, right now, as he's thinking about it, he realizes that he has known exactly such a time, known it and lived it. He remembers it as though it were yesterday, just as he remembers there never being a time when the drums were not there. They are both burned into his memory. Which is not the way things are supposed to be.
Time is no simple straight linear progression, every child of Gallifrey knows that. The Time Lords have always been able to see that there are many paths that diverge from a single event in Time because they have always understood that Time is elegant and multifaceted. Time, though, for all the variety it provides, has and maintains a natural structure of its own. Oh, Time doesn't mind a bit of chaos every now and then, but it doesn't want to be a wild child. Simply because there are different temporal paths leading away from the same temporal point does not mean that all those paths simultaneously co-exist in a tangible way; it certainly does not mean that they should. Time isn't benign, Time isn't even calm, but it has an order to it, which is something else that the Time Lords have understood ever since Rassilon and Omega harnessed Time's energy. They had even tried, when they weren't being exceedingly boring or politically corrupt, to foster that order with their tedious Laws. Generally, though, Time has always sought out its own order and guarded it jealously. Take that order away? Force Time to do without the structure it wants? You might as well call Time a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-whimey stuff and throw it against a wall just to see if it will make a great big crack in the plaster. Not even the Master, who has never had any use for the Time Lords and their rule-bound ways, ever dreamed of showing Time such disrespect.
“I've brought him,” the Master's guide says to the assembled members of the Council as she takes the Master's hand off her forearm and returns it to his side.
“We can see that,” another female voice responds, sounding none too pleased at having been told the obvious. “How are you feeling?”
“She's talking to you,” his guide says sotto voce as she nudges him in the side when he fails to respond.”
“Bit knackered, if you really want to know,” the Master rallies and answers in the direction of the questioning voice. “Do you think this could wait?”
A third voice, male this time, joins in. “No, it cannot! The situation is far more critical then you seem to realize. We must...”
“That's enough,” the woman who asked how he was feeling orders, sparing the Master from having to hear the rampant fear underlying the man's outraged tone. “I'll advise the Council when this meeting is to be reconvened.”
The Master hears the sound of people standing and shuffling away, along with a small amount of what the Master could swear is grumbling. His guide puts her hand around his upper arm and begins to lead him away. “Not you, Master,” the woman says. She's standing right next to him, now, on the side opposite his guide. “I need a brief, private word with you.”
The Master feels his guide begin to slowly pull her hand away from his arm. He doesn't go into a full panic, but he the thought of having to navigate the room and corridors on his own so soon unnerves him. Before he can say anything, however, the woman says “You may stay, as well, Rani. I think the Master may need some assistance in negotiating his way around. He'll likely need your help in the lab, as well, if what I'm beginning to suspect is true.”
The Rani. The Master should have known. There's only one person who could always convey such impatient ire towards him though the sound of her voice alone.
“I'm no laboratory assistant,” the Rani answers indignantly.
“I think it's fair to say that even you hope he'll be of more use to us than he was when he was first brought out of the Matrix. Besides, it will get you back into the scientific forces, which is exactly where you've told me you want to be.”
“On my own terms, and on my own projects!”
“Which is, as you know, not going to happen. You can't be trusted to safely do the work, especially now.” She pauses, and in her brief silence the Master senses something very like distaste. “Your...handicap... poses too great a risk of accident.”
“Yet I am able to sufficiently serve as laser fodder, my 'handicap' notwithstanding” the Rani says bitterly. “That hardly shows an ability to use the resources available to you to the best effect.”
“Could you please show the Master back to his quarters,” the woman, voice calm and dispassionate, asks. “I'm sure he's still very tired. And have his attendant dim the lights for him. Perhaps his affliction might benefit from rest in a darkened room.”
The Master decides that he'll gain nothing from continuing to hide his condition. “I've had enough of being talked about like I'm not here. And I don't have a migraine. I'm blind, so I'm not going to be piloting any War TARDISES for you this time around. Not that I would anyway. In fact, whoever you are, I'm not exactly feeling like doing anything at all to help you or this sorry lot. As soon as I figure out a way, I'll be through the Time Lock and out of here.”
“You won't if there's no 'here' to get out of. Or anywhere to go once you do.” The woman takes the Master's hand nearest the Rani and puts it on the Rani's forearm, mirroring the Rani's action when she'd prepared to lead him the the Council chamber. “Go get some rest. It won't help your eyes, but you'll need it for the work you'll be facing.”
This entry was originally posted to Dreamwidth at http://evilawyer.dreamwidth.org/119080.html. There are
comments to this post there.