Chapter Text
The TARDIS whined, jittered, and flashed as the Cloister Bell sounded. It would be nice if the Master could blame the Doctor for this, but the reality was that it was entirely his fault. He had been the one to give the Doctor up to the Judoon; he had been the one to decide to rescue him; and he had been the one to steer the TARDIS directly into the path of the Judoons’ strato-gun. Now, as the TARDIS careened out of control, he was all alone, jerking at the controls and spitting out curse words he could only blame on this stupid American body.
Why had he done it? Why had he seen the Doctor, vulnerable and lost, naked except for a sheet, and decided that the best way to get his revenge would be to turn him over to the Judoon? He had been so trusting, taking the Master’s hand when it was offered, believing he was taking him to a better place right up until those horrible aliens knocked on the door. The look of betrayal on the Doctor’s face had been nearly unbearable. Perhaps that was why he changed his mind as soon as the Doctor was out of sight. But he should have realized that getting the Doctor out of a Judoon prison would never be as simple as walking in and asking for his prisoner back.
The TARDIS juddered to a halt, flinging the Master halfway across the console room. All the lights went out as he got back to his feet.
“You stupid piece of garbage,” he told the center console. “What kind of TARDIS are you that you can’t even take a single hit?”
The TARDIS didn’t respond. Even the Cloister Bell had gone silent.
He strode over and kicked the center console. It shuddered back to life, but only barely. Emergency lights kicked on all around the room, and the console gave one tiny jump. It wasn’t enough power to actually travel through time and space, but it was, at least, something.
He slammed his fist on the console. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t get the Doctor back without help, but where could he turn? Gallifrey was obviously off-limits, as they would just send him to be executed again.The Doctor’s other lives would be useless, as they wouldn’t believe him long enough for him to explain what was going on. That human, Lee, trusted him, but he wouldn’t be any help at all.
That left him with one option.
“You’re going to hate this,” he muttered as he manipulated the controls. “And he would hate it even more, if he knew what I was doing. But he’s got no say in the matter, and neither do you.”
The TARDIS whined, but seemed to at least be willing to listen to reason. The Time Rotor slid all the way down and began to gently spark. Simultaneously, a door toward the back of the room opened up, and the Master practically ran through it. One good thing about this body was that its previous owner had kept it in shape. After he had fixed himself up so he wasn’t rotting away second by second, he could make good use of these muscles.
He took a turn, following the twisting passages. He had not been much of a fan of the Doctor’s previous face, but he had to commend him for his taste. This version of the TARDIS was much nicer to stroll through than the previous sterile versions. Even if it was a little dark.
He turned a final corner and found himself standing in the doorway to a brightly-lit room with a huge staircase across from him. This was the Cloister Room, where the Eye of Harmony was, and where he had first gone to get his body stabilized. Now it was where he would open a portal to get the help he needed.
The problem was that the Eye of Harmony didn’t exactly like being opened, let alone being used as a power source for something that was almost definitely a bad idea. It had been hard enough to get it to open a crack so he could siphon some energy for personal use. Now he was going to need a lot more energy, and the Eye wasn’t going to be happy to give it up, especially now that he no longer had a human to help. Maybe he should recruit Lee…
But no. He strode over to the Eye and gripped one of its poles. It wouldn’t come out for him, but he kept his hand on it as he said, “Listen, you. There’s only one way to get your favorite Time Lord back, and you and I both know what it is. Now, I know you don’t like me, but you like him , and if you don’t help me now, you will never get him back. You hear me? Never. And that’s not a threat. That’s a fact. Do we have an understanding?”
He tugged on the pole. After a bit of resistance, it slid out of its holder.
“That’s what I thought,” he said grimly. “Now hold on tight.”
That last part was more directed at himself than the TARDIS. All he needed the Eye for was energy, but in order to open it, he would have to change his eyes. And in order to do that , he would have to briefly release control of his head. He didn’t have to worry about his human host, since he was dead, but it would still be highly unpleasant.
He set the pole carefully aside and gritted his teeth. He only needed the Eye open for a few seconds, that was all. That would give him enough energy to open a portal in the console room, which he’d already primed the TARDIS for. And then the rest of his plan could go into effect. But first he had to open the Eye.
This was going to suck (not a phrase he would have used in any of his former bodies; he had to blame the American for that one).
In one swift movement, he yanked off his sunglasses, bent over the Eye, and pulled his autonomy back from his head. The result of this was that he smacked face-first into the stone, reeled back, and landed with absolutely no dignity on his rear end — but the Eye opened. It opened for a total of a second and a half, but that was all he needed. Energy spilled out, racing past the Master toward the console room. He sprang to his feet, following it without bothering to replace the pole. If he didn’t have careful control of this next bit, he might end up opening a portal to the wrong place.
When he reached the console room, everything was sparking. The Time Rotor was moving jerkily, and seemed to twitch, as if flickering in and out of the timeline.
Perfect.
He ran to the console. The time display was jumping and glitching in a way that he’d never seen before, but nonetheless knew what it meant: the crossing of several timelines.
He watched it closely and flipped a lever. For a moment, the console room was filled with lightning, including a thunderclap shortly followed by a thud as someone landed awkwardly on the other side of the console.
“Yes!” he crowed. But the job wasn’t over. One person wasn’t enough. He needed as many as he could get.
“What on—” began the person on the other side of the console, but the Master interrupted.
“No time,” he snapped. “Hold still.”
“Oh, Rassilon, I know that voice,” murmured the other person, and then, thankfully, shut up. The Master was already concentrating again, looking for the right sequence of numbers to pull another one through.
The second came with a shudder of the TARDIS that felt like an earthquake and a series of popping noises. This time, the person popped in close to the door, and landed heavily with an audible “oof.” The first person to drop in quickly went to assist the new arrival. A spark shot out of the console, narrowly missing the Master’s face.
“You’re going to tear this TARDIS apart,” the first arrival shouted. “What on Gallifrey are you doing?”
The numbers were getting farther apart now. The first new arrival was probably right; the TARDIS couldn’t take this much strain for very long. But if he could just get one more through…
He yelled as the numbers lined up one final time, and he slammed the lever into position. This time, the reaction was several very loud sounds at once: the sound of an explosion; the sound of the Cloister Bell ringing seemingly several times at once; and over all of that, the sound of the TARDIS screaming. He instantly knew that he had pushed it too far, a knowledge that was only reinforced when everything went dark and silent all at once.
“What,” a new voice broke the silence, “the hell is going on?”
“I would very much like to know that, myself,” said the first voice. “Would the version of myself standing by the center console of not his TARDIS care to explain?”
“Ooh, are you me, too?” said a female voice. “I know I saw at least one of me, but for the lives of me, I couldn’t figure out what he was doing.”
The Master didn’t recognize any of the voices. On the one hand, that was a good thing; it meant he had lives to live after this one, against all odds. On the other hand, it meant all of them knew him , but he didn’t know any of them .
“The Doctor is in trouble,” the Master began.
“Good,” came the voice of the third arrival.
“ Not good,” the female voice said. “Are you mad? If he’s telling us the Doctor is in trouble, and we’re all here, that means he didn’t cause it.”
“Astute deduction,” the first arrival said. “And given that he has managed to drain the power to the point that even the emergency lighting isn’t turning on, he really needs our help.”
The Master gritted his teeth. “They’ll come on in a moment. Now—”
“If you think I’m going to help the Doctor—” the third arrival began.
“Everyone shut up,” the female voice said. “I’m already getting confused. We’re all the Master, correct?”
“Yes,” the Master said, “and I’ve brought you here to—”
“Be quiet, Shades,” she commanded. “Oh! There are the lights.”
Sure enough, the emergency lights had come on, glowing not quite as brightly as they had before, but at least providing some light. Two of the other three Masters were gathered near the door; one of them looked as he should, with dark hair and a beard and a dignified look, while the other was a woman, dressed in the most ridiculous outfit the Master had ever worn. It almost looked Doctor-ish, and included, apparently, an umbrella, which she held loosely at her side. The third Master stood several yards away, looking quite disgruntled, his hair mussed from the trip. In his hands was an early 21st-century phone.
“Shades?” the Master echoed. He knew he should be going over the situation, but he was too caught off guard by the nickname.
She strode over to him. “Yes, shades, because you always wear them, although I see that you’re not now. What happened? Did the Doctor take them?”
“I left them in the Cloister Room,” the Master muttered. “You can’t call me—”
“I am your future self,” she declared. “I can call you whatever I like. And you lot—” she pointed the umbrella at the other two in turn— “can call me Missy. Though I imagine you know that already, as I don’t recognize either of you.”
“On the contrary,” drawled the dignified Master. “I don’t recognize you, either. As a matter of fact, the only one I do recognize is, as Missy so masterfully pointed out, Shades.”
“You can’t call me that,” the Master snapped.
“You’re fighting a losing battle,” the third Master said, as he strolled over. “But count your blessings. She could have called you Bruce.”
Frustrated, the Master said, “This is not the point. The point is—”
“Ah, yes,” the dignified Master said. “Tell us about this grand Doctor-saving plan you have. I assume that’s why you called us here?”
“The Doctor is being held prisoner by the Judoon,” the Master said, eschewing any further preamble. “As you’re all aware, the Judoon’s security measures are too much for one person to take on alone.”
“Unless, possibly, that person is the Doctor,” the dignified Master said. “What exactly has you so convinced that he won’t escape on his own?”
“You all should remember this one,” the Master said. “He started this life rather… addled.”
There was a collective “ohhh” as all three of them understood what he meant.
“As you can no doubt tell from the damage around you—”
“Oh, so you’re saying you didn’t cause all of this?” Missy said brightly.
“No,” the Master said, after a long moment. “The TARDIS was damaged by a Judoon strato-gun.”
“I see,” the dignified Master said. “So I take it your first rescue attempt went… poorly.”
The Master gritted his teeth. “As I was trying to say, yes. But with four of me, we should be able to manage.”
“I quite agree,” Missy said, “but first things first, we’ll need code names. Can’t very well go around calling everybody ‘the Master,’ can we? It would get far too confusing. Do you mean him? Me? Shades?”
“I’m not—” began the Master, but the third arrival cut him off.
“Only one of us should be called Master,” he said. “Obviously not her, because she’s already called herself Missy. I think it should be me.”
“And why is that?” the dignified Master said, in a world-weary tone that indicated he’d had a few too many losing arguments in his time.
“Because,” the third Master said with a grin, “I called dibs.”
“Let me see that.” Missy bumped the phone out of his hands with her umbrella and expertly caught it before it hit the ground. “Who are you texting? We text now?”
The third Master reached for the phone, but she pulled it out of his reach. “Give that back!”
“Oh, wonderful,” Missy said as she scrolled through the phone. “You’re texting the Doctor. And he’s texting back! Sorry, no— she’s texting back. Well done! What’s your alias this time? We used to have such fun with those.”
“Give it back,” the third Master said, through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I see,” she said. “You’re going by O. She thinks you’re human. That’s adorable.”
She tossed the phone back to him. He fumbled it for a moment, but caught it before it fell, and shoved it into his pocket, fuming.
“That settles that, then,” she said. “You’re O. I’m Missy. He’s Shades. And he—”
“If only one of us is going to go by Master—” the dignified Master began.
“No,” Missy said firmly. “Too confusing. You’ll be Beardy.”
The dignified Master glared at her. “I hardly think that’s—”
“Shut up, Beardy,” said the Master. “Now that that’s out of the way, we need a plan. Obviously—”
“Obviously, the first thing we need is a distraction, so that the others can sneak past security,” Missy said brightly.
“Don’t be stupid,” O growled. “The first thing we need is to scope out their defenses.”
“ Obviously ,” Beardy said, glowering, “the first thing we need is to fix the TARDIS. ”
There was a brief silence as they all realized, in the console room lit only by emergency lighting, exactly how right he was. The time rotor wasn’t even going.
“Luckily,” drawled Beardy, “I have a fair amount of experience regarding the matter, as the idiot manages to break it every other week. Now—”
“Sorry,” O said, “how does that follow?”
“The Doctor breaks the TARDIS,” Beardy said, as if explaining to a toddler. “I fix it. It’s quite simple. Are there any other questions?”
“Yes,” said the Master and Missy at the same time. They glanced at each other, and the Master continued, “Why are you fixing the Doctor’s TARDIS?”
“More importantly, how are you fixing the Doctor’s TARDIS?” Missy added. “That is to say, what possible scenario could you be in that he would let you?”
There was a silence. Finally, Beardy said, “It so happens that I am his chosen traveling companion.”
“We do not have time for this,” the Master said loudly, before anyone else could react. “We need to make a plan.”
“I will fix the TARDIS,” Beardy said quickly, flashing the Master a glance that may even have been gratitude. Both Missy and O were staring at him with mouths hanging open. “If I may suggest, it seems to me that Missy would be ideal for creating a distraction.”
“Well, thank you very much,” Missy said. “Maybe we should call you Loverboy, instead.”
“If you—” began Beardy.
“No time,” the Master interrupted again. “That leaves me and O to sneak into the prison. I—”
“And where in the prison is he, exactly?” O said.
“That is the second part of the plan,” the Master said. “Someone will need to find schematics.”
“I’ll do that,” O said. “I’m very good at getting people to believe me.”
“I don’t care,” the Master said. “Now, let’s figure out the details…”