An experiment, of sorts.
_medley_ wanted something about the Fall of Arcadia. She's also wanted fiction about AU Time War rattling around in my head. So, these two ficlet are *both* are the Fall of Arcadia. One is the Alt!Verse version. The second is one way it might have gone in canon. I hope they make sense independently, and are comprehensible to people who know nothing about my Alt!Master and Alt!Doctor.
Title: Tipping Point
Author: skipthedemon
Character(s): Jacobi!Master , Eighth Doctor (alternate universe versions)
Rating: G
Spoilers: Just the Time War
Warnings: Nope.
Word Count: 669
Prompt: "Anything involving Arcadia, either canon or AU"
This battle, this war, would go much easier if Daleks needed sleep. They don't, though. The Master does. He can feel that need creeping on him to the point he can't resist it any longer, while he stares at the casualty reports. The latest are from the colony on third moon of the fifth planet of this stellar system.
The Master estimates that within 48 hours there won't be a living soul on that rock that's not a Dalek - not at the current rate. He makes the calculations on what will buy them more time - diverting reinforcements to hold the line at the colony. Which may give the Dalek fleet an opening through which they can launch a full scale attack on Arcadia itself. Or keeping the network of ships surrounding the planet intact, which has been holding the Daleks off so far. He mentally sacrifices the pawn of the colony in this giant chess game. Every day more means more Dalek ships concentrated here, looking for this 'secret weapon' rumored to be in development. Maybe even the ship of the Emperor himself will come.
He shouldn't care - he doesn't, time is all that matters here - but he inwardly winces as he makes the decision. Three days ago he made a similar one. He hasn't slept since.
The Doctor has slept a lot, because the Master can't listen to his broken sobs, or the nonsense that comes out of his mouth when he tries to speak. The Master can't do that and listen to the drums that won't stop, not for a second. The Doctor can't be trusted not to do something amazingly, stupendously stupid the instant the Master turns his back on him. There's no way to make a TARDIS safe for a man bent on destroying himself. Better that the Doctor sleep, right now.
He wraps up the tasks that absolutely must be done for the next few hours, and finds himself standing over the bed he's strapped the Doctor into. Lays his hand on the Doctor's chest, to feel the thump of the double hearts there. They're steady, and between that and the peace of tranquilized sleep, he can almost ignore that that body holds a fractured mind.
Once he'd dreamed of the Doctor broken and at his command. Now that he has it, he just wishes the Doctor would wake up, look straight at him with clear eyes, and demand to know what the hell he thinks he's doing.
Then he'd actually believe that they might survive this waking nightmare. He doesn't, right now. At least, he's not sure. He keeps thinking of dragging the Doctor to the console room, strapping him into the chameleon arch, setting the TARDIS to take them as far away as possible, and then using the chameleon arch on himself. Surely then the Daleks wouldn't be able to find them?
But the subject needs to be conscious for the chameleon arch to work, and conscious means the Doctor might fight him. In his crazed state it could be a fatal fight for one of them. Besides, the Master's not sure the Doctor's mind could afford to be scrambled in that way.
The Master carefully lies down next to the Doctor, resting his head so he hears the thump-thump-thump-thump of the Doctor's hearts, not quite loud enough to drown out the drumbeat in his head. It's near enough he might be able sleep like this, for a while, he thinks. Tomorrow he'll let the Doctor come around, to see if he's lucid enough to let out of bed for a while.
He hangs between consciousness and sleep, unable to drift off despite his exhaustion because of this burning tight feeling in his chest. All he needs to do is figure out what's causing that feeling and get rid of it. Simple, and he can sleep. It seems simple. First though, he realizes, he has to decide if that feeling is despair or hope.
Title: Tipping Point, Take Two
Author: skipthedemon
Character(s): The Eight Doctor
Rating: G
Spoilers: Just the Time War
Warnings: Nope.
Word Count: 100
Prompt: "Anything involving Arcadia, either canon or AU"
Arcadia has fallen.
This is perhaps his fault, the Doctor thinks, as he flees before he is caught in an inferno he can't stop. A single decision, to send troops out to evacuate survivors - he saved those few people, but it may have taxed the planetary defenses to their breaking point. He took a chance. It failed.
In the back of his mind, permutations click off. He can feel what's coming. It's only a matter of time before. Probably. Unless he finds another way. By chance. Luck. Better luck.
The Daleks will come to Gallifrey. Soon.
He's not ready yet.
Title: Tipping Point
Author: skipthedemon
Character(s): Jacobi!Master , Eighth Doctor (alternate universe versions)
Rating: G
Spoilers: Just the Time War
Warnings: Nope.
Word Count: 669
Prompt: "Anything involving Arcadia, either canon or AU"
This battle, this war, would go much easier if Daleks needed sleep. They don't, though. The Master does. He can feel that need creeping on him to the point he can't resist it any longer, while he stares at the casualty reports. The latest are from the colony on third moon of the fifth planet of this stellar system.
The Master estimates that within 48 hours there won't be a living soul on that rock that's not a Dalek - not at the current rate. He makes the calculations on what will buy them more time - diverting reinforcements to hold the line at the colony. Which may give the Dalek fleet an opening through which they can launch a full scale attack on Arcadia itself. Or keeping the network of ships surrounding the planet intact, which has been holding the Daleks off so far. He mentally sacrifices the pawn of the colony in this giant chess game. Every day more means more Dalek ships concentrated here, looking for this 'secret weapon' rumored to be in development. Maybe even the ship of the Emperor himself will come.
He shouldn't care - he doesn't, time is all that matters here - but he inwardly winces as he makes the decision. Three days ago he made a similar one. He hasn't slept since.
The Doctor has slept a lot, because the Master can't listen to his broken sobs, or the nonsense that comes out of his mouth when he tries to speak. The Master can't do that and listen to the drums that won't stop, not for a second. The Doctor can't be trusted not to do something amazingly, stupendously stupid the instant the Master turns his back on him. There's no way to make a TARDIS safe for a man bent on destroying himself. Better that the Doctor sleep, right now.
He wraps up the tasks that absolutely must be done for the next few hours, and finds himself standing over the bed he's strapped the Doctor into. Lays his hand on the Doctor's chest, to feel the thump of the double hearts there. They're steady, and between that and the peace of tranquilized sleep, he can almost ignore that that body holds a fractured mind.
Once he'd dreamed of the Doctor broken and at his command. Now that he has it, he just wishes the Doctor would wake up, look straight at him with clear eyes, and demand to know what the hell he thinks he's doing.
Then he'd actually believe that they might survive this waking nightmare. He doesn't, right now. At least, he's not sure. He keeps thinking of dragging the Doctor to the console room, strapping him into the chameleon arch, setting the TARDIS to take them as far away as possible, and then using the chameleon arch on himself. Surely then the Daleks wouldn't be able to find them?
But the subject needs to be conscious for the chameleon arch to work, and conscious means the Doctor might fight him. In his crazed state it could be a fatal fight for one of them. Besides, the Master's not sure the Doctor's mind could afford to be scrambled in that way.
The Master carefully lies down next to the Doctor, resting his head so he hears the thump-thump-thump-thump of the Doctor's hearts, not quite loud enough to drown out the drumbeat in his head. It's near enough he might be able sleep like this, for a while, he thinks. Tomorrow he'll let the Doctor come around, to see if he's lucid enough to let out of bed for a while.
He hangs between consciousness and sleep, unable to drift off despite his exhaustion because of this burning tight feeling in his chest. All he needs to do is figure out what's causing that feeling and get rid of it. Simple, and he can sleep. It seems simple. First though, he realizes, he has to decide if that feeling is despair or hope.
Title: Tipping Point, Take Two
Author: skipthedemon
Character(s): The Eight Doctor
Rating: G
Spoilers: Just the Time War
Warnings: Nope.
Word Count: 100
Prompt: "Anything involving Arcadia, either canon or AU"
Arcadia has fallen.
This is perhaps his fault, the Doctor thinks, as he flees before he is caught in an inferno he can't stop. A single decision, to send troops out to evacuate survivors - he saved those few people, but it may have taxed the planetary defenses to their breaking point. He took a chance. It failed.
In the back of his mind, permutations click off. He can feel what's coming. It's only a matter of time before. Probably. Unless he finds another way. By chance. Luck. Better luck.
The Daleks will come to Gallifrey. Soon.
He's not ready yet.