Post by Fitz Kreiner on Mar 4, 2012 10:29:11 GMT
The mood in the cell was morose. The Master had been searched prior to his being sent into the cell; his jacket and tie had been removed and he had been patted down thoroughly, whilst two Ikthaari troops pointed guns at his head. Tom had also been searched, although whilst he was being patted down, the Ikthaari had pointed their guns at Kelly. At one point, one of the Ikthaari troops tried to take the Brigadier’s walking stick, although the old soldier had requested to keep it, saying it helped him.
Inside the cell, the Master was lying, full length on one of the camp beds which had been installed, his hands folded behind his head with his eyes closed. On the other sat Kelly and the Brigadier. Tom was pacing the small space between the two, muttering to himself occasionally. Kelly was nervously fiddling with her silver lip ring, gently pulling it and rotating it. The Brigadier was sat on the edge of the bed, his hands folded over the top of his stick, his eyes flittering between Tom and the Master and occasionally looking over to Kelly.
“Do you have to pace like that?” he eventually asked Tom.
“It helps me think,” Tom replied without pausing.
Kelly shifted uncomfortably and pulled her legs underneath her and shuddered. Her coat had been taken from her when she was arrested and now she was starting to feel cold. And it wasn’t just the temperature which was making her shudder.
“What do you think Mr. Duncan meant about paperwork relating to our deaths?” she asked the Brigadier quietly.
“I wouldn’t worry about it Miss Humphreys,” the Brigadier replied calmly. “There hasn’t been an execution in Britain for decades.”
“And I rather think that comment was intended for myself and Mr. Rowan,” the Master said calmly from the other side of the cell.
“He’s going to have you killed?” Kelly asked.
“If not Duncan, then Kortath will take great pleasure in seeing me dead,” the Master replied flatly.
“Alright,” Tom said finally stopping whilst standing over the Master, “no bullnuts, you tell us straight. Who the hell is Kortath, when and how did you meet before and why does he want you dead? Other than the obvious that most of the universe wants you dead.”
“I can imagine that I’m not the only one whom a fair proportion of the universe wants dead,” the Master replied, opening his eyes and looking intently at Tom.
“What do you mean?” Tom replied defensively.
“Are you seriously telling me, Mr. Rowan,” the Master said, sitting up and swinging his feet off the bed, “that you have not made enemies whilst you have been in the company of the Doctor? That you have not had people try to kill you? That you’ve had to respond in a way which could only create more enemies?”
Tom shifted uncomfortably and looked over his shoulder, first at Kelly and then at the Brigadier before looking back at the Master. “This isn’t about me, is it?” he replied. “You’re stalling again, just answer the question or so help me Kortath and Duncan won’t have to kill you.”
“There it is,” the Master smiled. “The anger, the temperament; how far before you snap I wonder? Every man has his breaking point.”
“Enough,” the Brigadier snapped. “You two are like a couple of kids, Rowan, you’re almost as bad as the Doctor. And as for you,” the Brigadier said, looking round Tom to the Master. “You tried my patience enough during the seventies. After you left Earth for the last time I thought my luck had changed. It would do you well to answer the young man’s question.”
“Very well,” the Master said settling back on the bed. “The Ikthaari come from a world on the outermost edges of Mutter’s Spiral.”
“What’s Mutter’s Spiral?” Kelly asked.
“That, my dear Miss Humphreys, is the name of this spiral arm of the galaxy,” the Master replied. “Now if I may continue? When I say the outermost edge, I mean, the very outermost edge. Their sun, Tsalquise, sits on the very edge of the galaxy and has five planets. The Ikthaari inhabit the outermost planet, the fifth world, the only one of the system capable of supporting life. For half their year, at night, they have total darkness; the blackness of intergalactic space. They look up into vast nothingness, a concept too incredible for the human mind to comprehend. You look up into the sky and you see stars and the moon.
“The Ikthaari home world is the outermost body of the galaxy; it is the furthest from the galactic centre and one of the most isolated worlds in this galaxy. They are light-years from the nearest trade routes and the planet is often overlooked. It’s a shame really as they are the premier source of Cordium in the galaxy.”
“And what is Cordium when it’s at home?” Tom asked.
“Cordium, Mr Rowan,” the Master sighed, “if you would let me continue, is a metal ore. One with a very high melting point and when combined with certain other elements can make a flexible yet strong alloy with properties akin to cloth yet with a tensile strength greater than the strongest metal alloy you have on this world. One of the benefits of being a Time Lord is that I know the Cybermen will raid that world and discover this.”
“Enough of them,” Tom said with a shudder. “I’m far too familiar with the Cybermen. What I want to know is your connection to the Ikthaari and Kortath. It might tell us why they’re here.”
“By current Ikthaari technology levels,” the Master continued, “it would have taken Kortath and his entourage five years to reach Earth. The Ikthaari are more advanced that humanity, but they are not all that advanced. They have Ion drive space craft and phased Ion weaponry.”
“Ion being a bit of a theme among them then,” Tom cut in sardonically only getting the response of a small smile from Kelly.
The Master continued unabated. “When I arrived there was some civil unrest. Unlike this planet, they have single governing senate and there was some disagreement between the way the senate were running things and how the Ikthaari armed forces were behaving off world. An initially small breakaway group, which grew in strength wanted to seize control of the senate and take power and lead the Ikthaari to becoming a strong galactic power.”
“Let me guess, the leader of that faction was this Kortath chap?” the Brigadier asked.
“Yes,” the Master sighed.
“And let me guess,” Tom cut in, “you were the one who stirred all this mess up and egged Kortath on. He lost the civil war and got exiled because of it. That’s why he wants to kill you.”
“You really do have a low opinion of me, don’t you, Mr. Rowan?” the Master said.
“I wonder why,” Tom replied quietly.
“No, if you must know,” the Master continued, “the civil war was well underway when I arrived. Cordium isn’t the only mineral that the Ikthaari home world is the premier source of in the universe, just like Earth is the only planet on which you can find Quartz.”
“You’re going off on a tangent,” Tom said with a yawn.
“I’m explaining, Mr. Rowan,” the Master replied flatly. “The Ikthaari home world is also the premier planet for the mineral Algonite. Algonite makes a very good focussing generator in miniature, very handy for passing compressions beam through whilst confined in a small area.”
“And a key component of your, what was it, Tissue Compacter Gun?” Tom asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The Tissue Compression Eliminator.” The Master smiled, “Yes.”
“So, what does this have to do with you and this Kortath fellow?” the Brigadier asked.
“General Kortath believed that he could control me,” the Master said. “When I arrived, I wasn’t alone, I had someone with me. Kortath believed that by taking hold of that person and using them to coerce my actions, he had a hold over me.”
“I find it hard to believe that that would work,” Tom said, “since when have you ever cared about anyone else but yourself?”
The Master shot Tom a cold look that wiped the smirk off the young Time Lords’ face. “Mock me as much as you like, Mr. Rowan, it won’t get you anywhere,” he said icily. “You are nowhere near to knowing anything about me. You seem to class yourself in the same league as the Doctor, and you just can’t pull it off, I’m afraid. Great elements of my past are unknown to many, nay nearly all of those who know me.
“Whilst you try to mock me, you know nothing. When I say that Kortath believed he could control me through this person, he had a very strong belief that he could. And it would have worked, although I do not take kindly to being blackmailed and used.”
The cold look in the Masters’ eye caused the blood in Toms’ veins to run cold. There was a dark fury burning behind his eyes. For the first time, Tom felt a pang of sorrow for the man. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it.
The Master bowed his head slightly, “I accept your apology,” he said softly.
“I, I had no idea,” Tom said, faltering slightly.
The Brigadier and Kelly watched the conversation, aware that there was something subconsciously going on with the two Time Lords.
“No, I’m sorry,” the Brigadier cut in finally. “Are you saying that you were once close to loving someone?”
“Do you find that hard to believe Brigadier?” the Master replied. “We’re all capable of feeling emotion, all humanoid species are. Would anyone who met you during your blood and thunder days at UNIT have thought that you’d end up married, twice, with children? At the time you seemed to be married to the army rather than to a woman.”
“I’m not the subject matter here,” the Brigadier replied. “Was it a woman?”
“My companion at the time is not important,” the Master said. “What was was that Kortath believed that by putting pressure on them he could use me as his agent to infiltrate the Senate and assassinate the President. As I said, I don’t take kindly to being used. I had no reason to destroy the Ikthaari Senate. Indeed, they were most hospitable to me. Rather I was more concerned with what Kortath would do for my plans if he were successful in his attempts.”
“You’re sounding a bit like the Doctor there,” Tom said, raising an eyebrow. “Be careful or I might think that you’re defending a world against something which would disrupt the status quo.”
“Au contraire,” the Master replied, “The Ikthaari Senate was gladly giving me the materials I needed,”
“Paying you off, you mean?” the Brigadier cut in. “Giving you what you wanted to make sure that you didn’t cause harm to their world. Only the Doctor wasn’t on hand to help them, eh?”
“Like Mr. Rowan,” the Master said softly, turning his attention to the Brigadier, “you have a very low opinion of me, don’t you, my dear Lethbridge-Stewart?”
“Years of practice,” the Brigadier replied.
“May I get back to my story, before Mr. Rowan has a mini-embolism?” the Master asked, raising his eyebrows before continuing. “As anyone who knows me will know that to try to blackmail me is a bad idea. I don’t take kindly to it. In fact, one sure fire way of making a permanent entry into by little black book, as it were, would be to do just that.”
“You’ve said all this,” Kelly said, feeling a little bolder about interjecting into the Master's story.
“Thank you, Miss Humphreys.” The Master smiled. “Kortath threatened my little arrangement with the Ikthaari senate, and couple that with his attempts to blackmail me, he made it onto my bad side, shall we say. And before you say it, Mr. Rowan, without duplicitous means, I aided the senate in quelling his little uprising. The rebellion was crushed, although not without some changes to the Ikthaari home world. Most of the rebels were killed due to the superior strength of those loyal to the Senate, and some more advances in weaponry.”
“You ran guns for them, didn’t you?” Tom asked. “Bit underhand, even for you, isn’t it?”
“I gave them some little pointers,” the Master said, stroking his beard, “and it’s not underhanded to further your means. I could have tried to destroy them all and take what I wanted through force, but I didn’t.”
Tom murmured a non-committal “Hmm,” which the Master duly ignored.
“I was on hand at Kortath’s final stand,” he continued. “I stood there as we closed around him, Kortath and his most loyal troops. He still thought he could control me by threatening my companion. I told him that he would rue the day if he were to hurt them.”
The Master paused and looked up at the high, narrow window. “He called my bluff,” he finished quietly.
“He killed them?” Kelly asked.
“Not directly, and not immediately,” the Master said fixing her with a sad stare. “He went to, caused a scratch to them with his favourite hunting knife. What no-one knew at the time was that it was edged in a slow acting poison. While the wound was superficial, it broke the skin and the poison set about its deadly work. By the time we had left that dirt-ball and realised what had happened it was too late.”
“So why has he got it in for you?” Kelly asked.
“Because I aided his enemies and didn’t bend to his will. I was instrumental in bringing about his downfall. I gave information to the Senate which caused Kortaths’ dishonourable discharge from the Tsalwie. He blames me, as I blame him.” The coldness had returned to the Masters’ eyes as he looked at each of his cellmates in turn. “Now, I have nothing further to say on the subject, if you will excuse me?”
As the Master lay himself back down on the bed, Tom, Kelly and the Brigadier glanced at each other and an uncomfortable silence descended over the cell.
“Now this,” Duncan said with a mouth full and indicating the platter of food spread out on the table before him, “this is good eating, don’t you agree, Sir Daniel? General?”
In what Duncan had made his state dining room, a large table was set up, filled with smoked salmon, caviar, quail’s eggs, truffles, pate’s and other delicacies. Duncan and Ashfield sat at opposing ends of the table, feasting off the food, whilst Kortath sat uncomfortably between the two of them.
“Won’t you partake, General?” Duncan asked, eyeing the Ikthaari.
From the opposite end of the table, Ashfield looked up and suspiciously glared at the alien, his lip curling in a slight snarl of disdain.
“I have to admit,” Kortath said slowly, “that I find this habit of taking table somewhat bizarre.” Picking up the lobster from the centre of the table, he eyed it suspiciously. “Is there not a creature on this planet that your species does not consume? To me, this creature resembles an insect.”
From where he was sitting, Ashfield murmured something under his breath before continuing to eat.
“It’s lobster thermador,” Duncan said with a smile. “Not a cheap food. And now I can eat like this whenever I please and not have to feel guilty. And as for a creature that we do not eat, well, we’re the dominant species on the planet, we’re top of the food chain.”
“Do you ever wonder what would happen if you were knocked off that top spot?” Kortath asked carefully. “If something even bigger came along and started to feast off you.”
“We’d destroy them before they had the chance, alien scum,” Ashfield muttered.
“Now, now, Sir Daniel,” Duncan scolded. “Not now we have your co-operation and protection, General. Our combined might will make us a great power. Have no fear.”
“Oh, I don’t, I assure you,” Kortath said. “I just feel uncomfortable consuming this. I am much happier with the Hjufalji Fungi and Gw’Frekva root. If you would excuse me, I have to see to my men.”
“Of course, General.” Duncan smiled and indicated the door. “Make sure they’re all happy in barracks, eh?”
“Indeed.” Kortath bowed before turning and leaving the room.
Watching him go with a sneer, Ashfield muttered “good riddance”, ignoring the warning look he got from Duncan.
Walking from the room, Kortath gestured for the two Tsalwie troopers to follow him, collecting the two on guard outside the room. When he was far enough away from the door, he turned to one of them.
“Get two more of your colleagues and then meet us at the cell,” he hissed. “This human has not the stomach for judicial murder; we shall relieve him of that responsibility. Tonight begins our return to our rightful place in Ikthaari society.”
The mood in the cell was ebbing at its lowest point. The Master was stretched out along one bunk bed on his back, his arms under his head, eyes closed. He appeared to be sleeping. On the other bunk, Tom, the Brigadier and Kelly were huddled around trying to make sense of all they had learnt over the past few hours.
“Do you believe all that?” the Brigadier whispered to Tom, nodding his head towards the Master.
“It’s certainly a good sob story,” Tom replied, glancing over his shoulder.
“Look,” Kelly said, shifting into a more comfortable position, “I know you’ve said about him, but I believe him. You saw the way he looked when he said that his girlfriend had died. Man, if someone I loved was killed, I’d be really upset and want to kill whoever killed them.”
“Oh, Kelly,” Tom sighed, rolling his eyes. “That’s how he works. You can hardly have a successful career as a master criminal without being able to draw people in with a good sob story. He’s a sociopathic nut-job; I don’t think he’s capable of empathy for other people, let alone love. Well, other than love for himself.”
“Yeah, but he can’t have always been this way, can he?” Kelly asked. “He must have had something happen to make him like this. I mean, I’m studying psychology, and there’s this huge debate about whether people are mad or bad, and there’s got to be a trigger.”
“Well, yeah,” Tom said, shifting uncomfortably, “the Doctor did tell me a little about the Master before he became the Master, before he took that title. He wasn’t born called ‘The Master’, I mean, that’d screw any kid up, yeah? Even a Time Lord.”
“Well, calling someone Master is really going to play up to an ego and give delusions of grandeur,” Kelly said.
“Look, all this is supposition,” the Brigadier whispered. “I appreciate the psychology aspect Miss Humphreys, but this man is a stone cold psychopath. I wouldn’t put it past him to have made the whole thing up to try and gain sympathy, or try to divide us. We’ve got to keep a stiff upper lip about the whole thing and try and see it out. If the Master and this Kortath chap have a feud going on, then it’s up to them to sort out. We don’t want to get involved.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, Brigadier,” Tom said, cutting in, “we already are involved.”
“I know that, Mr. Rowan,” the Brigadier sighed. “What I meant was,”
“What you meant, my dear Brigadier,” the Master cut in from his bunk, “was; let Kortath and myself fight it out and you deal with the victor.”
The three looked over in shock at the Master, who’d merely turned his head and was looking at them with his dark eyes.
“You heard?” Kelly said, already blushing.
“Evidently,” the Master said, “every word. And I can assure you, whether you believe it or not, it is all true. Just because of your preconceptions of me, that doesn’t mean that I’ve had a past before you all.”
The sound of activity outside the cell door caused the Master to stop, sitting up and turning to look at the door. Following his lead, Tom, the Brigadier and Kelly all looked towards the heavy door, Tom getting to his feet and adopting a defensive pose. Slowly the heavy door opened and Kortath was framed in the doorway several of his troops stood behind him, weapons at the ready. Head held high, Kortath stepped into the cell and looked at the captives.
“Well, I see one of you is ready,” he growled, eyeing up Tom, “the rest of you; on your feet.”
Unsure of what to do, Kelly looked back at Tom, who was staring at Kortath, anger clearly in his eyes. Glancing back further she looked at the Master, who appeared indifferent to the situation before looking at the Brigadier, who gave her a small and comforting nod of approval. Slowly, she got herself to her feet.
“I said on your feet,” Kortath shouted at the Master, reaching out and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him up.
“Why? What are you going to do with us?” Tom asked.
“You will discover in due course,” Kortath said, turning and leaving the cell before pausing and glancing back at his troops. “Bring them,” he barked.
Moving into the cell, two of the Ikthaari troops herded the four prisoners out with their weapons. Kelly looked at the black masked faces, seeing her own scared face reflected in the mirrored eyes. She glanced back further to Tom. She could see that he wanted to grab the weapon out of the nearest Ikthaari’s hands and fight back, and was struggling with the thought. Not wanting him to do something that would wind him up in trouble, she reached out and took his hand. His skin felt cool in her hand, but comforting.
“You ok?” he asked softly before one of the Ikthaari nudged him in the back with the muzzle of its gun.
“I guess,” she replied. “Kinda scared though. Dunno what’s gonna happen.”
“Don’t worry,” Tom said, squeezing her hand softly, “I’ll look out for you.”
Kelly looked up at him. Despite the look of worry in his eyes and his rather pale pallor, he managed a smile which warmed her and made her feel more at ease. She believed him. She fell silent as they were marched down the corridor. She felt conspicuous as they passed a woman with dark hair and glasses, who seemed to watch them closely, her mouth slightly open. Looking up at Tom, she noticed a look of puzzlement on his face, his eyes fixed on the woman, his mouth moving as though he were trying to say something but unable to find the words.
Feeling the cold air of the December night suddenly wash over her, Kelly looked forwards and saw that they were approaching a large arched doorway, leading into a small courtyard. Flaming torches lined the walls, giving her the impression that they’d gone back through time. Why flaming torches and not lights, she didn’t know. There were more Ikthaari out here too, again, all armed.
“Position them,” Kortath barked, spinning on his heel and looking at the prisoners. “I have awaited this for a long time,” he said, directing the comment to the Master.
“What?” Tom cut in, his eyes wide. “No, you can’t do this, you don’t have the right.”
“I have every right,” Kortath said as his troops pushed the four prisoners into a line, facing a wall.
“Oh, Gods,” Kelly exclaimed, suddenly realising what was happening.
“This is against all rules of engagement,” the Brigadier said, protesting as one of the Ikthaari took his cane. “We’re prisoners, of war, if you like; you can’t do this on our sovereign soil.”
“Your sovereignty means nothing to me,” Kortath said. “Only one thing matters and that is my troops and their standing. That was taken from us, so I shall reclaim it.”
“You think killing me will do that?” the Master asked calmly. “I can tell you now that it won’t, and killing these others, these innocents, it will only make you look worse in the eyes of your people.”
“Yeah, you’re a general, not a butcher,” Tom added.
“In times of war, we are made into what we need to be,” Kortath said.
“But we’re not at war with you,” Kelly said. “We don’t kill prisoners here. Did Mr. Duncan ask you to do this? It’s not right.”
“Enough of this,” Kortath shouted before turning to his troops. “Ready them,” he ordered.
As one, four of the troops moved forwards and stepped behind a prisoner each. They bodily turned them to face the wall and with a hit on the back of the knees, forced them down into a kneeling position. Stepping back, the four troops joined their comrades in a rank.
“Prepare and aim,” Kortath said, raising his hand above his head.
The line of troops stepped forwards into a brace position and aimed their weapons at the backs of the heads of the four prisoners.
Bringing his arm down with speed, Kortath took great pleasure in yelling,“Fire!”
Inside the cell, the Master was lying, full length on one of the camp beds which had been installed, his hands folded behind his head with his eyes closed. On the other sat Kelly and the Brigadier. Tom was pacing the small space between the two, muttering to himself occasionally. Kelly was nervously fiddling with her silver lip ring, gently pulling it and rotating it. The Brigadier was sat on the edge of the bed, his hands folded over the top of his stick, his eyes flittering between Tom and the Master and occasionally looking over to Kelly.
“Do you have to pace like that?” he eventually asked Tom.
“It helps me think,” Tom replied without pausing.
Kelly shifted uncomfortably and pulled her legs underneath her and shuddered. Her coat had been taken from her when she was arrested and now she was starting to feel cold. And it wasn’t just the temperature which was making her shudder.
“What do you think Mr. Duncan meant about paperwork relating to our deaths?” she asked the Brigadier quietly.
“I wouldn’t worry about it Miss Humphreys,” the Brigadier replied calmly. “There hasn’t been an execution in Britain for decades.”
“And I rather think that comment was intended for myself and Mr. Rowan,” the Master said calmly from the other side of the cell.
“He’s going to have you killed?” Kelly asked.
“If not Duncan, then Kortath will take great pleasure in seeing me dead,” the Master replied flatly.
“Alright,” Tom said finally stopping whilst standing over the Master, “no bullnuts, you tell us straight. Who the hell is Kortath, when and how did you meet before and why does he want you dead? Other than the obvious that most of the universe wants you dead.”
“I can imagine that I’m not the only one whom a fair proportion of the universe wants dead,” the Master replied, opening his eyes and looking intently at Tom.
“What do you mean?” Tom replied defensively.
“Are you seriously telling me, Mr. Rowan,” the Master said, sitting up and swinging his feet off the bed, “that you have not made enemies whilst you have been in the company of the Doctor? That you have not had people try to kill you? That you’ve had to respond in a way which could only create more enemies?”
Tom shifted uncomfortably and looked over his shoulder, first at Kelly and then at the Brigadier before looking back at the Master. “This isn’t about me, is it?” he replied. “You’re stalling again, just answer the question or so help me Kortath and Duncan won’t have to kill you.”
“There it is,” the Master smiled. “The anger, the temperament; how far before you snap I wonder? Every man has his breaking point.”
“Enough,” the Brigadier snapped. “You two are like a couple of kids, Rowan, you’re almost as bad as the Doctor. And as for you,” the Brigadier said, looking round Tom to the Master. “You tried my patience enough during the seventies. After you left Earth for the last time I thought my luck had changed. It would do you well to answer the young man’s question.”
“Very well,” the Master said settling back on the bed. “The Ikthaari come from a world on the outermost edges of Mutter’s Spiral.”
“What’s Mutter’s Spiral?” Kelly asked.
“That, my dear Miss Humphreys, is the name of this spiral arm of the galaxy,” the Master replied. “Now if I may continue? When I say the outermost edge, I mean, the very outermost edge. Their sun, Tsalquise, sits on the very edge of the galaxy and has five planets. The Ikthaari inhabit the outermost planet, the fifth world, the only one of the system capable of supporting life. For half their year, at night, they have total darkness; the blackness of intergalactic space. They look up into vast nothingness, a concept too incredible for the human mind to comprehend. You look up into the sky and you see stars and the moon.
“The Ikthaari home world is the outermost body of the galaxy; it is the furthest from the galactic centre and one of the most isolated worlds in this galaxy. They are light-years from the nearest trade routes and the planet is often overlooked. It’s a shame really as they are the premier source of Cordium in the galaxy.”
“And what is Cordium when it’s at home?” Tom asked.
“Cordium, Mr Rowan,” the Master sighed, “if you would let me continue, is a metal ore. One with a very high melting point and when combined with certain other elements can make a flexible yet strong alloy with properties akin to cloth yet with a tensile strength greater than the strongest metal alloy you have on this world. One of the benefits of being a Time Lord is that I know the Cybermen will raid that world and discover this.”
“Enough of them,” Tom said with a shudder. “I’m far too familiar with the Cybermen. What I want to know is your connection to the Ikthaari and Kortath. It might tell us why they’re here.”
“By current Ikthaari technology levels,” the Master continued, “it would have taken Kortath and his entourage five years to reach Earth. The Ikthaari are more advanced that humanity, but they are not all that advanced. They have Ion drive space craft and phased Ion weaponry.”
“Ion being a bit of a theme among them then,” Tom cut in sardonically only getting the response of a small smile from Kelly.
The Master continued unabated. “When I arrived there was some civil unrest. Unlike this planet, they have single governing senate and there was some disagreement between the way the senate were running things and how the Ikthaari armed forces were behaving off world. An initially small breakaway group, which grew in strength wanted to seize control of the senate and take power and lead the Ikthaari to becoming a strong galactic power.”
“Let me guess, the leader of that faction was this Kortath chap?” the Brigadier asked.
“Yes,” the Master sighed.
“And let me guess,” Tom cut in, “you were the one who stirred all this mess up and egged Kortath on. He lost the civil war and got exiled because of it. That’s why he wants to kill you.”
“You really do have a low opinion of me, don’t you, Mr. Rowan?” the Master said.
“I wonder why,” Tom replied quietly.
“No, if you must know,” the Master continued, “the civil war was well underway when I arrived. Cordium isn’t the only mineral that the Ikthaari home world is the premier source of in the universe, just like Earth is the only planet on which you can find Quartz.”
“You’re going off on a tangent,” Tom said with a yawn.
“I’m explaining, Mr. Rowan,” the Master replied flatly. “The Ikthaari home world is also the premier planet for the mineral Algonite. Algonite makes a very good focussing generator in miniature, very handy for passing compressions beam through whilst confined in a small area.”
“And a key component of your, what was it, Tissue Compacter Gun?” Tom asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The Tissue Compression Eliminator.” The Master smiled, “Yes.”
“So, what does this have to do with you and this Kortath fellow?” the Brigadier asked.
“General Kortath believed that he could control me,” the Master said. “When I arrived, I wasn’t alone, I had someone with me. Kortath believed that by taking hold of that person and using them to coerce my actions, he had a hold over me.”
“I find it hard to believe that that would work,” Tom said, “since when have you ever cared about anyone else but yourself?”
The Master shot Tom a cold look that wiped the smirk off the young Time Lords’ face. “Mock me as much as you like, Mr. Rowan, it won’t get you anywhere,” he said icily. “You are nowhere near to knowing anything about me. You seem to class yourself in the same league as the Doctor, and you just can’t pull it off, I’m afraid. Great elements of my past are unknown to many, nay nearly all of those who know me.
“Whilst you try to mock me, you know nothing. When I say that Kortath believed he could control me through this person, he had a very strong belief that he could. And it would have worked, although I do not take kindly to being blackmailed and used.”
The cold look in the Masters’ eye caused the blood in Toms’ veins to run cold. There was a dark fury burning behind his eyes. For the first time, Tom felt a pang of sorrow for the man. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it.
The Master bowed his head slightly, “I accept your apology,” he said softly.
“I, I had no idea,” Tom said, faltering slightly.
The Brigadier and Kelly watched the conversation, aware that there was something subconsciously going on with the two Time Lords.
“No, I’m sorry,” the Brigadier cut in finally. “Are you saying that you were once close to loving someone?”
“Do you find that hard to believe Brigadier?” the Master replied. “We’re all capable of feeling emotion, all humanoid species are. Would anyone who met you during your blood and thunder days at UNIT have thought that you’d end up married, twice, with children? At the time you seemed to be married to the army rather than to a woman.”
“I’m not the subject matter here,” the Brigadier replied. “Was it a woman?”
“My companion at the time is not important,” the Master said. “What was was that Kortath believed that by putting pressure on them he could use me as his agent to infiltrate the Senate and assassinate the President. As I said, I don’t take kindly to being used. I had no reason to destroy the Ikthaari Senate. Indeed, they were most hospitable to me. Rather I was more concerned with what Kortath would do for my plans if he were successful in his attempts.”
“You’re sounding a bit like the Doctor there,” Tom said, raising an eyebrow. “Be careful or I might think that you’re defending a world against something which would disrupt the status quo.”
“Au contraire,” the Master replied, “The Ikthaari Senate was gladly giving me the materials I needed,”
“Paying you off, you mean?” the Brigadier cut in. “Giving you what you wanted to make sure that you didn’t cause harm to their world. Only the Doctor wasn’t on hand to help them, eh?”
“Like Mr. Rowan,” the Master said softly, turning his attention to the Brigadier, “you have a very low opinion of me, don’t you, my dear Lethbridge-Stewart?”
“Years of practice,” the Brigadier replied.
“May I get back to my story, before Mr. Rowan has a mini-embolism?” the Master asked, raising his eyebrows before continuing. “As anyone who knows me will know that to try to blackmail me is a bad idea. I don’t take kindly to it. In fact, one sure fire way of making a permanent entry into by little black book, as it were, would be to do just that.”
“You’ve said all this,” Kelly said, feeling a little bolder about interjecting into the Master's story.
“Thank you, Miss Humphreys.” The Master smiled. “Kortath threatened my little arrangement with the Ikthaari senate, and couple that with his attempts to blackmail me, he made it onto my bad side, shall we say. And before you say it, Mr. Rowan, without duplicitous means, I aided the senate in quelling his little uprising. The rebellion was crushed, although not without some changes to the Ikthaari home world. Most of the rebels were killed due to the superior strength of those loyal to the Senate, and some more advances in weaponry.”
“You ran guns for them, didn’t you?” Tom asked. “Bit underhand, even for you, isn’t it?”
“I gave them some little pointers,” the Master said, stroking his beard, “and it’s not underhanded to further your means. I could have tried to destroy them all and take what I wanted through force, but I didn’t.”
Tom murmured a non-committal “Hmm,” which the Master duly ignored.
“I was on hand at Kortath’s final stand,” he continued. “I stood there as we closed around him, Kortath and his most loyal troops. He still thought he could control me by threatening my companion. I told him that he would rue the day if he were to hurt them.”
The Master paused and looked up at the high, narrow window. “He called my bluff,” he finished quietly.
“He killed them?” Kelly asked.
“Not directly, and not immediately,” the Master said fixing her with a sad stare. “He went to, caused a scratch to them with his favourite hunting knife. What no-one knew at the time was that it was edged in a slow acting poison. While the wound was superficial, it broke the skin and the poison set about its deadly work. By the time we had left that dirt-ball and realised what had happened it was too late.”
“So why has he got it in for you?” Kelly asked.
“Because I aided his enemies and didn’t bend to his will. I was instrumental in bringing about his downfall. I gave information to the Senate which caused Kortaths’ dishonourable discharge from the Tsalwie. He blames me, as I blame him.” The coldness had returned to the Masters’ eyes as he looked at each of his cellmates in turn. “Now, I have nothing further to say on the subject, if you will excuse me?”
As the Master lay himself back down on the bed, Tom, Kelly and the Brigadier glanced at each other and an uncomfortable silence descended over the cell.
*
“Now this,” Duncan said with a mouth full and indicating the platter of food spread out on the table before him, “this is good eating, don’t you agree, Sir Daniel? General?”
In what Duncan had made his state dining room, a large table was set up, filled with smoked salmon, caviar, quail’s eggs, truffles, pate’s and other delicacies. Duncan and Ashfield sat at opposing ends of the table, feasting off the food, whilst Kortath sat uncomfortably between the two of them.
“Won’t you partake, General?” Duncan asked, eyeing the Ikthaari.
From the opposite end of the table, Ashfield looked up and suspiciously glared at the alien, his lip curling in a slight snarl of disdain.
“I have to admit,” Kortath said slowly, “that I find this habit of taking table somewhat bizarre.” Picking up the lobster from the centre of the table, he eyed it suspiciously. “Is there not a creature on this planet that your species does not consume? To me, this creature resembles an insect.”
From where he was sitting, Ashfield murmured something under his breath before continuing to eat.
“It’s lobster thermador,” Duncan said with a smile. “Not a cheap food. And now I can eat like this whenever I please and not have to feel guilty. And as for a creature that we do not eat, well, we’re the dominant species on the planet, we’re top of the food chain.”
“Do you ever wonder what would happen if you were knocked off that top spot?” Kortath asked carefully. “If something even bigger came along and started to feast off you.”
“We’d destroy them before they had the chance, alien scum,” Ashfield muttered.
“Now, now, Sir Daniel,” Duncan scolded. “Not now we have your co-operation and protection, General. Our combined might will make us a great power. Have no fear.”
“Oh, I don’t, I assure you,” Kortath said. “I just feel uncomfortable consuming this. I am much happier with the Hjufalji Fungi and Gw’Frekva root. If you would excuse me, I have to see to my men.”
“Of course, General.” Duncan smiled and indicated the door. “Make sure they’re all happy in barracks, eh?”
“Indeed.” Kortath bowed before turning and leaving the room.
Watching him go with a sneer, Ashfield muttered “good riddance”, ignoring the warning look he got from Duncan.
Walking from the room, Kortath gestured for the two Tsalwie troopers to follow him, collecting the two on guard outside the room. When he was far enough away from the door, he turned to one of them.
“Get two more of your colleagues and then meet us at the cell,” he hissed. “This human has not the stomach for judicial murder; we shall relieve him of that responsibility. Tonight begins our return to our rightful place in Ikthaari society.”
*
The mood in the cell was ebbing at its lowest point. The Master was stretched out along one bunk bed on his back, his arms under his head, eyes closed. He appeared to be sleeping. On the other bunk, Tom, the Brigadier and Kelly were huddled around trying to make sense of all they had learnt over the past few hours.
“Do you believe all that?” the Brigadier whispered to Tom, nodding his head towards the Master.
“It’s certainly a good sob story,” Tom replied, glancing over his shoulder.
“Look,” Kelly said, shifting into a more comfortable position, “I know you’ve said about him, but I believe him. You saw the way he looked when he said that his girlfriend had died. Man, if someone I loved was killed, I’d be really upset and want to kill whoever killed them.”
“Oh, Kelly,” Tom sighed, rolling his eyes. “That’s how he works. You can hardly have a successful career as a master criminal without being able to draw people in with a good sob story. He’s a sociopathic nut-job; I don’t think he’s capable of empathy for other people, let alone love. Well, other than love for himself.”
“Yeah, but he can’t have always been this way, can he?” Kelly asked. “He must have had something happen to make him like this. I mean, I’m studying psychology, and there’s this huge debate about whether people are mad or bad, and there’s got to be a trigger.”
“Well, yeah,” Tom said, shifting uncomfortably, “the Doctor did tell me a little about the Master before he became the Master, before he took that title. He wasn’t born called ‘The Master’, I mean, that’d screw any kid up, yeah? Even a Time Lord.”
“Well, calling someone Master is really going to play up to an ego and give delusions of grandeur,” Kelly said.
“Look, all this is supposition,” the Brigadier whispered. “I appreciate the psychology aspect Miss Humphreys, but this man is a stone cold psychopath. I wouldn’t put it past him to have made the whole thing up to try and gain sympathy, or try to divide us. We’ve got to keep a stiff upper lip about the whole thing and try and see it out. If the Master and this Kortath chap have a feud going on, then it’s up to them to sort out. We don’t want to get involved.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, Brigadier,” Tom said, cutting in, “we already are involved.”
“I know that, Mr. Rowan,” the Brigadier sighed. “What I meant was,”
“What you meant, my dear Brigadier,” the Master cut in from his bunk, “was; let Kortath and myself fight it out and you deal with the victor.”
The three looked over in shock at the Master, who’d merely turned his head and was looking at them with his dark eyes.
“You heard?” Kelly said, already blushing.
“Evidently,” the Master said, “every word. And I can assure you, whether you believe it or not, it is all true. Just because of your preconceptions of me, that doesn’t mean that I’ve had a past before you all.”
The sound of activity outside the cell door caused the Master to stop, sitting up and turning to look at the door. Following his lead, Tom, the Brigadier and Kelly all looked towards the heavy door, Tom getting to his feet and adopting a defensive pose. Slowly the heavy door opened and Kortath was framed in the doorway several of his troops stood behind him, weapons at the ready. Head held high, Kortath stepped into the cell and looked at the captives.
“Well, I see one of you is ready,” he growled, eyeing up Tom, “the rest of you; on your feet.”
Unsure of what to do, Kelly looked back at Tom, who was staring at Kortath, anger clearly in his eyes. Glancing back further she looked at the Master, who appeared indifferent to the situation before looking at the Brigadier, who gave her a small and comforting nod of approval. Slowly, she got herself to her feet.
“I said on your feet,” Kortath shouted at the Master, reaching out and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him up.
“Why? What are you going to do with us?” Tom asked.
“You will discover in due course,” Kortath said, turning and leaving the cell before pausing and glancing back at his troops. “Bring them,” he barked.
Moving into the cell, two of the Ikthaari troops herded the four prisoners out with their weapons. Kelly looked at the black masked faces, seeing her own scared face reflected in the mirrored eyes. She glanced back further to Tom. She could see that he wanted to grab the weapon out of the nearest Ikthaari’s hands and fight back, and was struggling with the thought. Not wanting him to do something that would wind him up in trouble, she reached out and took his hand. His skin felt cool in her hand, but comforting.
“You ok?” he asked softly before one of the Ikthaari nudged him in the back with the muzzle of its gun.
“I guess,” she replied. “Kinda scared though. Dunno what’s gonna happen.”
“Don’t worry,” Tom said, squeezing her hand softly, “I’ll look out for you.”
Kelly looked up at him. Despite the look of worry in his eyes and his rather pale pallor, he managed a smile which warmed her and made her feel more at ease. She believed him. She fell silent as they were marched down the corridor. She felt conspicuous as they passed a woman with dark hair and glasses, who seemed to watch them closely, her mouth slightly open. Looking up at Tom, she noticed a look of puzzlement on his face, his eyes fixed on the woman, his mouth moving as though he were trying to say something but unable to find the words.
Feeling the cold air of the December night suddenly wash over her, Kelly looked forwards and saw that they were approaching a large arched doorway, leading into a small courtyard. Flaming torches lined the walls, giving her the impression that they’d gone back through time. Why flaming torches and not lights, she didn’t know. There were more Ikthaari out here too, again, all armed.
“Position them,” Kortath barked, spinning on his heel and looking at the prisoners. “I have awaited this for a long time,” he said, directing the comment to the Master.
“What?” Tom cut in, his eyes wide. “No, you can’t do this, you don’t have the right.”
“I have every right,” Kortath said as his troops pushed the four prisoners into a line, facing a wall.
“Oh, Gods,” Kelly exclaimed, suddenly realising what was happening.
“This is against all rules of engagement,” the Brigadier said, protesting as one of the Ikthaari took his cane. “We’re prisoners, of war, if you like; you can’t do this on our sovereign soil.”
“Your sovereignty means nothing to me,” Kortath said. “Only one thing matters and that is my troops and their standing. That was taken from us, so I shall reclaim it.”
“You think killing me will do that?” the Master asked calmly. “I can tell you now that it won’t, and killing these others, these innocents, it will only make you look worse in the eyes of your people.”
“Yeah, you’re a general, not a butcher,” Tom added.
“In times of war, we are made into what we need to be,” Kortath said.
“But we’re not at war with you,” Kelly said. “We don’t kill prisoners here. Did Mr. Duncan ask you to do this? It’s not right.”
“Enough of this,” Kortath shouted before turning to his troops. “Ready them,” he ordered.
As one, four of the troops moved forwards and stepped behind a prisoner each. They bodily turned them to face the wall and with a hit on the back of the knees, forced them down into a kneeling position. Stepping back, the four troops joined their comrades in a rank.
“Prepare and aim,” Kortath said, raising his hand above his head.
The line of troops stepped forwards into a brace position and aimed their weapons at the backs of the heads of the four prisoners.
Bringing his arm down with speed, Kortath took great pleasure in yelling,“Fire!”
