Fic: Maestro (PG, 1/?)
Okay, so the first part of the long-awaited Alt!Good!Master story has been finished. This part is unbetaed because I needed to get it done for the multific Finish-a-Thon, but the_sandwalker? You up for it? Also, if I could have a volunteer for Brit-picking, there's only so much that "It's a different universe, so shaddup!" can cover.
Title: Maestro
Rating: PG for now
Characters/Pairing: The Master (Jacobi & Simm), Lucy Cole, Rose, Chantho, Pete Tyler, Mickey, Tosh; Master/Lucy and former Doctor/Rose
Spoilers: Up through the end of S3 in an oblique way
Summary: Rose discovers that in her new universe, as in her old, there's one Time Lord left; now she needs his help to solve a mystery and maybe save the world.
Rose was feeling no little sense of déjà vu. She was standing aboard a Sycorax ship, listening to threats and posturing along with Harriet Jones, a minor functionary or two, Mickey Smith, and a man in pinstripes. Only the man in pinstripes this time was distinctly ginger and not rude.
“You’re sure about this, Rose?” Pete murmured as the Torchwood operative behind them read a rough translation of the Sycorax leader’s blathering-which might have been the lyrics to “Bohemian Rhapsody” for all Rose cared.
“Met these blokes before,” Rose replied, sotto voce. “They’re all about show. Don’t try to negotiate or appeal to their better natures; they’ll see it as weakness. Throw the attitude right back, and they’ll have some respect.” Another thought occurred to her. “You don’t know of a really good swordsman, do you?”
The operative, O’Neill, suddenly nudged her. “The leader’s demanding your attention.”
“Too bad,” said Rose, loud enough for the Sycorax to hear. “We’re having a discussion here.”
The leader said something that sounded quite a bit like gargling with gravel. “ ‘Unless we have your cooperation, we will unleash the final curse,’” translated O’Neill.
Rose didn’t reply directly, but pointed up at the device on the leader’s raised dais. “Oh, look-I think I see a great big threatening button which should never, ever be pressed!” She skipped up the stairs, leaving the Sycorax and the little knot of humans completely nonplused, save for Mickey.
“What’s she doing?” Rose heard President Jones ask.
“Trust her,” said Mickey.
Rose examined the device, finding it to be exactly what she expected. “Blood control,” she said. “Seen this before, I have.”
The leader gargled some more stones at her, which apparently translated to, “Get away from there, little ape-girl.”
“It’s your own fault for tryin’ to play with us apes,” Rose shot back. “See, we’re curious little creatures. For instance, when I see something like this-a great big threatening button which should never, ever be pressed-I just can’t stop myself from,” she pushed down the button, “pressing it!”
At this point, she really hoped blood control worked the same in this universe as it did in her old one.
Judging by the uneasy ripple of sound that went through the Sycorax, she guessed it did. It was confirmed a moment later when O’Neill translated something to the effect of, “We decided to have mercy.”
“Another thing about us apes,” Rose said, casually descending back to her father’s side. “You can’t overrule our survival instincts that easily.”
At that point, Pete’s phone rang. He held up a finger, staving off the latest bit of posturing from the Sycorax leader, and answered it. Rose couldn’t help but feel proud at that.
“Yes? Ah, good, I’m glad to hear that. Yes, across the bow would be perfect whenever you’re ready,” he said to the person on the other end. “Give it five minutes after that, all right?” He clicked off and looked back up at the Sycorax leader. “Sorry-you were saying?”
“ ‘Our weaponry will reduce your planet to rubble unless you surrender one-half of your population to serve us, and also turn over the object,’” read O’Neill. “ ‘Choose now-death or slavery.’”
By this time, Harriet Jones, clever woman that she was, had caught on to how to handle the Sycorax. She gave a sidelong glance at Pete, who shook his head, and then faced the Sycorax leader, lifting her chin. “Neither, thank you.”
A moment later, there was an excited burst of babble from the crew of the ship, and the ship itself suddenly rattled. The Sycorax leader let out a roar of outrage and shouted at Pete and Harriet in his own language.
“He says they’ll destroy the weapon we just fired at him,” said O’Neill.
“It was an ion cannon,” said Pete, addressing the leader, “and we have four of them at undisclosed locations. If you fire upon the Earth, you’ll be destroyed. If I don’t tell my people to hold their fire within five minutes, you’ll be destroyed. So your choice is: leave, or be destroyed.”
“ ‘But you will be killed with us,’” O’Neill translated. “ ‘Would they fire upon their own leaders? Would you allow your daughter to die?’”
Pete looked at Rose, who nodded. “My wife and son-Rose’s mother and brother-are on Earth. We’d die to keep them safe,” he said.
“And it is my duty to die for England, if need be,” said Harriet. “Send us back to Earth and leave, and tell your people that Earth is not without its defenders. If any of your people approach our planet again, we will shoot them out of the sky.”
Tense moments stretched into what felt like forever, and then the topsy-turvy sensation of a transmat beam grabbed Rose. The next thing she knew, they were all standing in front of the Canary Wharf tower, watching the Sycorax ship ascend back out of the atmosphere.
“Four ion cannons, eh?” said Mickey with a laugh. “Where’d you get the other three?”
“Pulled ‘em out of my arse. Begging your pardon, Madam President,” said Pete.
“One doesn’t get as far as I have in government without hearing a great deal of crude language, Director. I can cope.” Harriet looked back up at the sky. “What is your recommendation concerning the Sycorax?”
Rose tensed, but waited for her father to speak.
“We let them go,” said Pete.
“We don’t know who they may tell about the object,” Harriet pointed out. “It might be safer to stop them now.”
“Is that how England deals with threats now?” Rose asked, the words bursting out. “Shootin’ people in their backs?”
“My daughter is right,” said Pete. “We have to consider who we want to be.”
Harriet nodded slowly. “Yes, you’re right. I won’t sacrifice England’s soul for her safety.” She held out a hand to Pete. “Once again, Torchwood proves its worth. Thank you, Director.”
“It’s a pleasure to serve,” said Pete, shaking her hand. “My people will take you and your entourage back to Downing Street in secure vehicles, if that’s agreeable.”
In a few minutes, President Jones and her aides were on their way, and Rose, Pete, Mickey and O’Neill headed into the Torchwood tower.
“Hate to be the one to say it, but she had a point about the Sycorax,” said Mickey. “Word’s already gettin’ out.”
“We still can’t go and shoot down ships that’re runnin’ away,” said Rose.
“No,” agreed Pete. “Besides, I’m more concerned about threats from within.”
Both Rose and Mickey made questioning noises, and Pete gestured for them to follow him to his office.
***
Almost three years earlier, a few months after Rose found herself stranded in this strange new world, she’d stood with Pete and a whole herd of Torchwood operatives watching a ship descend. It was obviously damaged; one of its engines had exploded, and now the aliens inside were seeking a place to set down and make repairs.
Rose had recognized the ship and its inhabitants from her time with the Doctor. Pete, understanding that, like him, Rose needed something to do to take her mind off what she’d lost, had given her a job with Torchwood’s research division, where her firsthand knowledge of alien technology and culture had proved invaluable. As it was proving now.
“They’re Lirani,” Rose told the team going to meet the incoming ship. “When I met them with the Doctor around 3500, they’d already mixed with humans. They’re humanoid, tend to be a little taller than us, like dancing, love coffee, and they’re likely to stand too close, so try not to back off. The women are almost all empathic to one degree or another, and some of the men are, too. They’re also very family-oriented; the captain’s probably got his or her whole family aboard. If someone introduces you to their daughter, act honored, because that means they trust you completely.”
The ship had already made contact with Torchwood, and thanks to superior Lirani translation technology, everyone understood each other. Torchwood, in this case, was taking the part of diplomats.
When the Lirani disembarked-tall, lean figures with golden skin and eyes and long, straight dark hair on both men and women-Pete was the first person to greet them. The captain did, in fact, have his family with him, and introduced them all to the Torchwood representatives. Pete did the same with his team.
What Rose remembered most from the encounter was that when Pete got to her, the Lirani captain’s wife had given a pleased smile and said, “Your daughter.” Pete hadn’t actually introduced Rose as his daughter; the captain’s wife had empathically picked up on his paternal feelings toward her.
It was the first time in Rose’s new world that she’d nearly cried with happiness instead of sorrow. Pete had been kind, and they’d been getting along well, but Rose, remembering their first encounter, had shied away from thinking of him as “Dad” or hoping he’d see her as his daughter. And now she had solid proof that he did.
The rest of the Lirani visit had gone just as well. A month later, after they’d made repairs, they loaded Torchwood down with gifts: translation devices, a ceremonial sword set with golden gems called fire stones, jewelry for Rose and Jackie, and a sweet, creamy confection called maabu. Torchwood, in return, had presented them with gifts from various Earth cultures and, more importantly as far as the Lirani were concerned, a rather enormous quantity of coffee beans. Earth had just made a powerful friend.
Which was all very well and good as far as it went, but the friendship came with a completely unforeseen consequence. A Lirani archeological team had been exploring a world whose civilization had long since disappeared when they discovered the matrix of a device that could provide almost unlimited energy. When word of the discovery had gotten out to the galactic community, the Vaya, who had descended from that long-gone civilization, placed a claim on the device.
The Lirani way when the ownership of an item was in question was to leave the item with a neutral party while negotiations went on, and they had chosen Earth. Torchwood had taken custody of the object. And now, unfortunately, every backwater scavenger race in Earth’s sector of the galaxy was trying to get its claws, tentacles or other appendages on the thing.
***
An hour after the Sycorax had been chased off, Torchwood’s inner circle sat around a conference table. They were all people who’d been with Pete from the beginning or, like Rose, he implicitly trusted.
“I believe we might have a leak in the organization,” he said bluntly, not wasting any time on pleasantries. “The fact that word seems to be getting around the galaxy that we have the generator could be explained by loose lips among the Lirani or Vaya. The coded transmission we intercepted can’t be explained away so easily.”
“What transmission?” Rose asked.
Pete nodded at Toshiko Sato, a computer expert he’d lured away from UNIT some years prior. “We caught it just by luck,” she said. “I noticed an odd frequency during a routine security sweep, and when I examined it, it turned out to be a coded transmission. I ran it through our decryption program, and it turned out to be the precise location of the generator inside our facility as well as the security codes necessary to get to it.”
“It’ll have to be moved,” Mickey mused, stroking a bit of stubble on his chin.
“That’s the conclusion Tosh and I came to as well,” said Pete. “The question is, where? And how do we get it out without anyone here noticing?”
A number of ideas were thrown out and discarded. Rose paid little attention, puzzling over the situation until a thought occurred to her.
“Cardiff,” she said suddenly. Everyone looked at her. “We send it to the Cardiff Hub. The Rift’s energy fluctuations should camouflage it.”
“It’s a good idea, Director,” Tosh told Pete.
Pete tapped his pen on the table. “The question, then, is how to get it there without anyone noticing.”
“Underplay it,” Mickey suggested. “Send it along with someone who’s going there anyway. Minute you start makin’ a big production, it’ll be hot gossip in the breakroom.”
“I’m headed to Cardiff next week,” Rose put in. “I could take it.” Pete looked a little unhappy. “Mickey’s right, Dad; it’s the best chance we’ve got of gettin’ it out before anyone notices. No one’d suspect you’re letting me carry it without a bodyguard.”
“Well, now that you mention it,” Pete said, but Rose cut him off.
“Kinda defeats the purpose if I’ve got an entourage. I’ll have my security beacon and a sidearm, and someone from the Hub can meet me at the docking tower. Safe as houses, and you can tell Mum that.”
Pete knew when it was time to give in to a Tyler woman. “If you get hurt, you can explain it to her. All right, then: Mickey, I want you to get the generator into an insulated lunch box shortly before Rose leaves, and that’s how she’ll carry it. I’ll make certain no one’s studying it at the time. Rose, you’ll pick it up from Mickey on your way up to the docking tower. And no one, not even one person, is to be told about this. Tosh? I don’t want you to pick up on the next transmission by luck.”
Tosh nodded. “Understood.”
The meeting broke up then. Rose waited for Pete.
“You’re entirely too much like me,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders as they left the conference room together. “You’ll probably live longer if you try to be a bit more like your mum.”
Rose grinned cheekily. “And miss all the fun of near-death experiences? Thanks, but no.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “Don’t worry about this one, though; if everything goes as planned, it shouldn’t be any trouble at all.”
Title: Maestro
Rating: PG for now
Characters/Pairing: The Master (Jacobi & Simm), Lucy Cole, Rose, Chantho, Pete Tyler, Mickey, Tosh; Master/Lucy and former Doctor/Rose
Spoilers: Up through the end of S3 in an oblique way
Summary: Rose discovers that in her new universe, as in her old, there's one Time Lord left; now she needs his help to solve a mystery and maybe save the world.
Rose was feeling no little sense of déjà vu. She was standing aboard a Sycorax ship, listening to threats and posturing along with Harriet Jones, a minor functionary or two, Mickey Smith, and a man in pinstripes. Only the man in pinstripes this time was distinctly ginger and not rude.
“You’re sure about this, Rose?” Pete murmured as the Torchwood operative behind them read a rough translation of the Sycorax leader’s blathering-which might have been the lyrics to “Bohemian Rhapsody” for all Rose cared.
“Met these blokes before,” Rose replied, sotto voce. “They’re all about show. Don’t try to negotiate or appeal to their better natures; they’ll see it as weakness. Throw the attitude right back, and they’ll have some respect.” Another thought occurred to her. “You don’t know of a really good swordsman, do you?”
The operative, O’Neill, suddenly nudged her. “The leader’s demanding your attention.”
“Too bad,” said Rose, loud enough for the Sycorax to hear. “We’re having a discussion here.”
The leader said something that sounded quite a bit like gargling with gravel. “ ‘Unless we have your cooperation, we will unleash the final curse,’” translated O’Neill.
Rose didn’t reply directly, but pointed up at the device on the leader’s raised dais. “Oh, look-I think I see a great big threatening button which should never, ever be pressed!” She skipped up the stairs, leaving the Sycorax and the little knot of humans completely nonplused, save for Mickey.
“What’s she doing?” Rose heard President Jones ask.
“Trust her,” said Mickey.
Rose examined the device, finding it to be exactly what she expected. “Blood control,” she said. “Seen this before, I have.”
The leader gargled some more stones at her, which apparently translated to, “Get away from there, little ape-girl.”
“It’s your own fault for tryin’ to play with us apes,” Rose shot back. “See, we’re curious little creatures. For instance, when I see something like this-a great big threatening button which should never, ever be pressed-I just can’t stop myself from,” she pushed down the button, “pressing it!”
At this point, she really hoped blood control worked the same in this universe as it did in her old one.
Judging by the uneasy ripple of sound that went through the Sycorax, she guessed it did. It was confirmed a moment later when O’Neill translated something to the effect of, “We decided to have mercy.”
“Another thing about us apes,” Rose said, casually descending back to her father’s side. “You can’t overrule our survival instincts that easily.”
At that point, Pete’s phone rang. He held up a finger, staving off the latest bit of posturing from the Sycorax leader, and answered it. Rose couldn’t help but feel proud at that.
“Yes? Ah, good, I’m glad to hear that. Yes, across the bow would be perfect whenever you’re ready,” he said to the person on the other end. “Give it five minutes after that, all right?” He clicked off and looked back up at the Sycorax leader. “Sorry-you were saying?”
“ ‘Our weaponry will reduce your planet to rubble unless you surrender one-half of your population to serve us, and also turn over the object,’” read O’Neill. “ ‘Choose now-death or slavery.’”
By this time, Harriet Jones, clever woman that she was, had caught on to how to handle the Sycorax. She gave a sidelong glance at Pete, who shook his head, and then faced the Sycorax leader, lifting her chin. “Neither, thank you.”
A moment later, there was an excited burst of babble from the crew of the ship, and the ship itself suddenly rattled. The Sycorax leader let out a roar of outrage and shouted at Pete and Harriet in his own language.
“He says they’ll destroy the weapon we just fired at him,” said O’Neill.
“It was an ion cannon,” said Pete, addressing the leader, “and we have four of them at undisclosed locations. If you fire upon the Earth, you’ll be destroyed. If I don’t tell my people to hold their fire within five minutes, you’ll be destroyed. So your choice is: leave, or be destroyed.”
“ ‘But you will be killed with us,’” O’Neill translated. “ ‘Would they fire upon their own leaders? Would you allow your daughter to die?’”
Pete looked at Rose, who nodded. “My wife and son-Rose’s mother and brother-are on Earth. We’d die to keep them safe,” he said.
“And it is my duty to die for England, if need be,” said Harriet. “Send us back to Earth and leave, and tell your people that Earth is not without its defenders. If any of your people approach our planet again, we will shoot them out of the sky.”
Tense moments stretched into what felt like forever, and then the topsy-turvy sensation of a transmat beam grabbed Rose. The next thing she knew, they were all standing in front of the Canary Wharf tower, watching the Sycorax ship ascend back out of the atmosphere.
“Four ion cannons, eh?” said Mickey with a laugh. “Where’d you get the other three?”
“Pulled ‘em out of my arse. Begging your pardon, Madam President,” said Pete.
“One doesn’t get as far as I have in government without hearing a great deal of crude language, Director. I can cope.” Harriet looked back up at the sky. “What is your recommendation concerning the Sycorax?”
Rose tensed, but waited for her father to speak.
“We let them go,” said Pete.
“We don’t know who they may tell about the object,” Harriet pointed out. “It might be safer to stop them now.”
“Is that how England deals with threats now?” Rose asked, the words bursting out. “Shootin’ people in their backs?”
“My daughter is right,” said Pete. “We have to consider who we want to be.”
Harriet nodded slowly. “Yes, you’re right. I won’t sacrifice England’s soul for her safety.” She held out a hand to Pete. “Once again, Torchwood proves its worth. Thank you, Director.”
“It’s a pleasure to serve,” said Pete, shaking her hand. “My people will take you and your entourage back to Downing Street in secure vehicles, if that’s agreeable.”
In a few minutes, President Jones and her aides were on their way, and Rose, Pete, Mickey and O’Neill headed into the Torchwood tower.
“Hate to be the one to say it, but she had a point about the Sycorax,” said Mickey. “Word’s already gettin’ out.”
“We still can’t go and shoot down ships that’re runnin’ away,” said Rose.
“No,” agreed Pete. “Besides, I’m more concerned about threats from within.”
Both Rose and Mickey made questioning noises, and Pete gestured for them to follow him to his office.
***
Almost three years earlier, a few months after Rose found herself stranded in this strange new world, she’d stood with Pete and a whole herd of Torchwood operatives watching a ship descend. It was obviously damaged; one of its engines had exploded, and now the aliens inside were seeking a place to set down and make repairs.
Rose had recognized the ship and its inhabitants from her time with the Doctor. Pete, understanding that, like him, Rose needed something to do to take her mind off what she’d lost, had given her a job with Torchwood’s research division, where her firsthand knowledge of alien technology and culture had proved invaluable. As it was proving now.
“They’re Lirani,” Rose told the team going to meet the incoming ship. “When I met them with the Doctor around 3500, they’d already mixed with humans. They’re humanoid, tend to be a little taller than us, like dancing, love coffee, and they’re likely to stand too close, so try not to back off. The women are almost all empathic to one degree or another, and some of the men are, too. They’re also very family-oriented; the captain’s probably got his or her whole family aboard. If someone introduces you to their daughter, act honored, because that means they trust you completely.”
The ship had already made contact with Torchwood, and thanks to superior Lirani translation technology, everyone understood each other. Torchwood, in this case, was taking the part of diplomats.
When the Lirani disembarked-tall, lean figures with golden skin and eyes and long, straight dark hair on both men and women-Pete was the first person to greet them. The captain did, in fact, have his family with him, and introduced them all to the Torchwood representatives. Pete did the same with his team.
What Rose remembered most from the encounter was that when Pete got to her, the Lirani captain’s wife had given a pleased smile and said, “Your daughter.” Pete hadn’t actually introduced Rose as his daughter; the captain’s wife had empathically picked up on his paternal feelings toward her.
It was the first time in Rose’s new world that she’d nearly cried with happiness instead of sorrow. Pete had been kind, and they’d been getting along well, but Rose, remembering their first encounter, had shied away from thinking of him as “Dad” or hoping he’d see her as his daughter. And now she had solid proof that he did.
The rest of the Lirani visit had gone just as well. A month later, after they’d made repairs, they loaded Torchwood down with gifts: translation devices, a ceremonial sword set with golden gems called fire stones, jewelry for Rose and Jackie, and a sweet, creamy confection called maabu. Torchwood, in return, had presented them with gifts from various Earth cultures and, more importantly as far as the Lirani were concerned, a rather enormous quantity of coffee beans. Earth had just made a powerful friend.
Which was all very well and good as far as it went, but the friendship came with a completely unforeseen consequence. A Lirani archeological team had been exploring a world whose civilization had long since disappeared when they discovered the matrix of a device that could provide almost unlimited energy. When word of the discovery had gotten out to the galactic community, the Vaya, who had descended from that long-gone civilization, placed a claim on the device.
The Lirani way when the ownership of an item was in question was to leave the item with a neutral party while negotiations went on, and they had chosen Earth. Torchwood had taken custody of the object. And now, unfortunately, every backwater scavenger race in Earth’s sector of the galaxy was trying to get its claws, tentacles or other appendages on the thing.
***
An hour after the Sycorax had been chased off, Torchwood’s inner circle sat around a conference table. They were all people who’d been with Pete from the beginning or, like Rose, he implicitly trusted.
“I believe we might have a leak in the organization,” he said bluntly, not wasting any time on pleasantries. “The fact that word seems to be getting around the galaxy that we have the generator could be explained by loose lips among the Lirani or Vaya. The coded transmission we intercepted can’t be explained away so easily.”
“What transmission?” Rose asked.
Pete nodded at Toshiko Sato, a computer expert he’d lured away from UNIT some years prior. “We caught it just by luck,” she said. “I noticed an odd frequency during a routine security sweep, and when I examined it, it turned out to be a coded transmission. I ran it through our decryption program, and it turned out to be the precise location of the generator inside our facility as well as the security codes necessary to get to it.”
“It’ll have to be moved,” Mickey mused, stroking a bit of stubble on his chin.
“That’s the conclusion Tosh and I came to as well,” said Pete. “The question is, where? And how do we get it out without anyone here noticing?”
A number of ideas were thrown out and discarded. Rose paid little attention, puzzling over the situation until a thought occurred to her.
“Cardiff,” she said suddenly. Everyone looked at her. “We send it to the Cardiff Hub. The Rift’s energy fluctuations should camouflage it.”
“It’s a good idea, Director,” Tosh told Pete.
Pete tapped his pen on the table. “The question, then, is how to get it there without anyone noticing.”
“Underplay it,” Mickey suggested. “Send it along with someone who’s going there anyway. Minute you start makin’ a big production, it’ll be hot gossip in the breakroom.”
“I’m headed to Cardiff next week,” Rose put in. “I could take it.” Pete looked a little unhappy. “Mickey’s right, Dad; it’s the best chance we’ve got of gettin’ it out before anyone notices. No one’d suspect you’re letting me carry it without a bodyguard.”
“Well, now that you mention it,” Pete said, but Rose cut him off.
“Kinda defeats the purpose if I’ve got an entourage. I’ll have my security beacon and a sidearm, and someone from the Hub can meet me at the docking tower. Safe as houses, and you can tell Mum that.”
Pete knew when it was time to give in to a Tyler woman. “If you get hurt, you can explain it to her. All right, then: Mickey, I want you to get the generator into an insulated lunch box shortly before Rose leaves, and that’s how she’ll carry it. I’ll make certain no one’s studying it at the time. Rose, you’ll pick it up from Mickey on your way up to the docking tower. And no one, not even one person, is to be told about this. Tosh? I don’t want you to pick up on the next transmission by luck.”
Tosh nodded. “Understood.”
The meeting broke up then. Rose waited for Pete.
“You’re entirely too much like me,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders as they left the conference room together. “You’ll probably live longer if you try to be a bit more like your mum.”
Rose grinned cheekily. “And miss all the fun of near-death experiences? Thanks, but no.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “Don’t worry about this one, though; if everything goes as planned, it shouldn’t be any trouble at all.”