fracturedrp | New arrival

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New arrival

The Master checked the readings on the control console of his TARDIS. He scowled. Three Dalek ships were attempting to cut him off. Escaping from the misbegotten lab accidents had become more difficult, since they learned how to time travel. Their methods, as usual, were crude, but highly effective. Fortunately, the Master congratulated himself on being even more effective!

Travelling in the Vortex was always tricky. It took exact calculations, often done in moments. A TARDIS and its pilot had to work together to stay on course and not get pulled to pieces by the Vortex's violent forces, but the Master had centuries of experience at quick escapes. He'd intended to materialize on Markeb in the constellation of Vela, but his fingers flew swiftly across the console, altering his coordinates. Changing direction in the Vortex was far from safe. Still, his TARDIS was top of the line and he was an expert pilot. The Master finished entering coordinates and pressed in the override.

A sharp jolt almost sent the Master plummetting to the ground, but he managed to stay up right. Despite the dangerous manuever, he was surprised to hear the ominous tolling of his cloister bells! Shutting down the alarm, the Master scanned the immediate area. He couldn't detect any Daleks. Grinning, the Master initiated materialization, waiting for the soft thump of landing.

When the materialization was complete, the Master studied his console, checking for damage. He frowned as he noted the alarm was still flashing red, though he had turned off the sound. He studied the coordinates and saw, to his annoyance, that they had shifted! He had intended to land on Sto, where he could remain fairly anonymous. Instead, he seemed to have landed on Earth in the middle of London, though something in the coordinates seemed off.

Earth was not one of the Master's favorite places, but it was fairly anonymous, when it wasn't under attack. He decided to take a quick walk to get rid of the adrenalin from the chase, then maybe grab a cup of tea. He checked to make sure his TCE was charged and in a handy pocket, then exited his TARDIS.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Andrew didn't care for that 'for now' (or for the smile), but he was wondering what harm there really would be in going with the Master, just for a little while. "And you'll bring us back here?" he asked. "Both unharmed?"

"As long as it is in my power to do so, yes. Assuming we don't find ourselves facing or injured by a mutual enemy," the Master agreed.

The Master hid his triumph, almost certain, now, that the meta-crisis would agree.

The meta-meta dropped the now empty crisp packet and came up beside the Doctor-thing to give him a nudge with his shoulder. When the Doctor-thing looked at him, he raised his eyebrows, looked toward the Master, and looked back again expectantly.

"Oh, fine," said Andrew, doing his best to make it sound like he was doing the Master and the meta-meta an enormous favor by agreeing, rather than at least partly suiting his own desires.

"No conquest, though - and no corrupting my meta-crisis."

"As you wish, my dear Andrew. Believe me, I am very grateful for your assistance," the Master assured him, as he went over and opened the door to his TARDIS. He graciously waved them in. "Please, after you."

The meta-meta grinned and scurried inside as soon as the door was opened, already going to poke at the console (though without pressing anything, of course; he had at least enough sense to wait for the Master to catch up), but Andrew hesitated at the threshold. The Master had admitted there could be no trust between them, but it still took trust to step inside - trust that the Master would at least keep to his basic promises. Steeling himself, the meta-crisis stepped inside, head held high as he tried to pretend his hesitation hadn't been at all due to fear or intimidation.

"I like what you've done with the place," he said.

Except for a slight smirk, the Master ignored Andrew's hesitancy, going to his console and standing next to the meta-meta. He began running through the coordinates of his last trip in the Vortex, comparing them to the ones he had set. Frowning, he realized he had best explain what he'd been doing, before coming here. At Andrew's comment though, he gave a genuine smile.

"Thank you, Andrew. Come over here and I'll show you the flight path that brought me here. I had to change direction within the Vortex, I'm afraid. I was trying to get away from Daleks."

Andrew joined the others at the console with just one last backward glance at the door. He was in for it now - even if he could make a run for it, he couldn't leave the meta-meta behind, and the meta-meta seemed happy to be where he was, keenly watching what the Master was doing.

"How good is your flight tracking?" he asked, looking at the readouts.

"Everything on my TARDIS works exactly as it is meant to," the Master boasted. "The problem is the coordinates. These numbers show a variance that they shouldn't be. Have you seen read-outs like these, with others who have come here?"

"I haven't been through anyone else's TARDIS logs looking for it." Maybe he wasn't going to be as much of a help as the Master thought after all. He frowned at the readout, chewing his lip momentarily as he worked through the impact the variance would have had on navigation in his head, and what could have caused it.

[Meta-meta tag next]

"There." The meta-meta suddenly spoke up, reaching out a finger to poke at the screen. He'd singled out one of the numbers several lines before the variance the Master and the Doctor-thing were studying. He frowned, struggled briefly to come up with the words to express what he saw, and gave up. "There," he said again. "That one's wrong." 'Wrong' wasn't the right word by far, but his brain refused to come up with a term to express what he really meant.

The Master looked at the meta-meta's chosen numbers intently, then grinned, giving a nod of approval.

"Very good. You see, Andrew? He does have my genius," the Master gloated, almost paternally. "Take a look. We need only follow the flight path back to this point and we should be able to use these numbers to plot a course."

"Or mine. You didn't catch it any quicker than I did." Handy huffed to himself over that, almost too distracted by his jealousy and possessiveness to actually praise the meta-meta for finding it. A moment later he remembered and absently patted the blond on the arm.

"Still not clear what sort of interference you hit," he pointed out. "Could be dangerous."

"You might have contributed," the Master conceded benignly, but then scoffed at Andrew's warning. "It pulled my TARDIS off course and landed it in an alternate universe. I think we can take dangerous as a given."

The Master set the coordinates into his console, making sure to reverse his flight path precisely. He secretly examined both Andrew and the meta-meta, wanting to gauge their reactions.

Both of them watched as the Master entered the course information, Andrew watching to be sure he did it right and the meta-meta simply watching out of interest. Andrew was beginning to have doubts again - what if they did make it to the Master's universe but couldn't find the spot of interference again to come back? He'd sworn he'd never go back to how things had been when he'd first arrived in this universe, but he could hardly ask the Master for charity, either. He began to sweat, though he was much less afraid of what could happen to them at the site of the interference than of the thought that they might make it through but not come back.

"Ready when you are," he lied, too stubborn to admit how frightened he was. The meta-meta, in contrast, didn't seem bothered at all, and eagerly awaited the Master's next action.

"I've set the TARDIS to go into a holding pattern, right before we enter the site of the interference, where the numbers are wrong," the Master lectured. "From there, we'll do scans and try to discover more about the nature of the interference and the viability of findng coordinates to my home universe."

The Master looked up at Andrew, a smug, sly grin spreading his mouth.

"Relax, Andrew."

"What?" Andrew looked up from the display. "I'm fine - totally relaxed. I don't think it's possible to be any more relaxed than I already am."

Nonetheless, it took a concentrated effort for him to loosen his grip on the edge of the console, and he blushed a little, knowing how obvious he was being about it.

The Master chuckled, almost finding the display endearing.

"Forgive me. Of course, you are," he granted, dryly.

A warning from the console informed the Master that they had arrived and the Master pressed the lever that initiated the pre-set holding pattern. He grinned. They had landed precisely where he hoped. The Master engaged the viewscreen, allowing him and his guests to see what waited outside the TARDIS.

The alarm made him jump, afraid that something had gone terribly wrong already. When the Master simply settled the ship into its holding pattern he grinned sheepishly and craned his neck to get a good look at the display.

"Scan for artron residuals," he suggested after a moment of not seeing anything especially unusual that was visible to the naked eye.

The Master nodded, initiating the scan, frowning slightly. It bothered him, that there was no visual confirmation of the anamoly. Whatever had brought him here had to be fairly powerful and should have left visual traces.

"Have you spoken with anyone who has tried this or similar?"

Andrew shook his head, a bit sheepish. "Not that I know of," he admitted. "I don't really know anyone with a TARDIS who gives out rides, and it's just...never really come up. If they could get back, though, I'm sure they would have."

The Master nodded, distracted. Along with the scan for artron energy, he scanned for his own time trace. He was a bit disconcerted by the seeming normality of this area of space.

"There must be some trace of the event, even if the anamoly I traveled through is no longer there. Even if it closed, I should be able to duplicate it, if I can learn enough about it."

"Good luck with that." Handy wasn't sure if he meant that sarcastically or sincerely - he really did hope the Master could get back to his own home universe, provided he brought Andrew and the meta-meta back home before he left for good. On the other hand, he didn't think it was likely at all to happen.

"That looks like a secondary ripple," he said, pointing to a spot on the readout. The meta-meta looked over his shoulder with interest, but didn't comment.

"Thank you," the Master acknowledged politely, focussing his scans on the area in question. There was something, but his TARDIS scans refused to focus on it or identify it. The reading was diffuse. The Master made a soft, angry sound, almost a growl. He realigned the scans manually, using the numbers from his flight route.

"I can't get it in focus long enough to get coordinates," the Master explained, trying to sound unconcerned. "I need more factors."

Handy's brow furrowed, and he glanced at the meta-meta before catching himself and reminding himself that he didn't look to the meta-meta for answers, ever. He frowned at the screen, trying to think up ways to get those factors the Master needed.

[OOC: Meta-meta next]

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