Hope That Someone Gets My (The Deca)

[Deleted]

"What do you think?" asked the Master.

"That's... not quite how I remember Milli," the Meddler finally decided.

"Sure her body will be different."

"Clearly."

"Thought I'd give Rallon and her a few extra...shall we say presents," the Master smirked.

"Will she actually be able to stand up like that? Without gravatic assist, I mean?"

The Master opened his mouth to respond to that, but stopped when the War Chief started shouting.

"Hey!" Chief shouted, "If you change one hair on Milli's head, I'll rearrange your face. It'll be an early looming-day gift from me to you."

"Don't worry," the Meddler deadpanned. "He isn't planning on changing her hair."

He considered the rendering of his creche sister's new body, then shook his head. "Why don't you just go with her original proportions?" Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he added "that seems to be the War Chief's vote, at least."

"To be perfectly honest," the Master replied to the Meddler as he crossed his hands behind his head. "It's been centuries since I had last seen her. That, and I myself didn't inquire myself to know those personal details of hers while she was with Rallon. Had I done so you, Rallon, and War Chief would've killed my first life."

He shrugged. "And back then we all thought we would still 'best friends forever.' Look at us now," he said with a tone of disgust. He picked his pen back up and dashed through a couple of the symbols on the paper and respoke the edits, making the poster of Millennia's proportions closer to her original. However they were still somewhat wrong, they weren't as...severe as the first were. "The Last of the Time Lords."

Vansell looked up between the duo of Time Lords and said, "Shouldn't we do our best to maintain a sense of this TARDIS's state of temporal grace? It feels like the function is only hanging by a thread in here."

The Meddler half-turned, and looked at Vansell. "We're in a Type 40," he said. "Everything's function is hanging by a thread."

"To you maybe," the Master said to the Meddler as he casually began writing down more block transfer calculations, namely for the speeds and rates chemicals and blood and water and elements were to flow through the body. Blood Pressure, metabolism, muscle mass, strength and weaknesses of sinew and tendons. Eyesight and hearing, namely how well her new eardrums would pick up sound or how much light her eyes would be able to absorb to give her the ability to see, how well she'd be able to inhale and exhale air to breath, the densities and strengths of her bones and cartiledge. "Give it the right and proper amount of maintenance and customizations and you can get any Type 40 or Type 45 to function just as well as a Type 103 or even better than a Mark IV. Or even beyond the capabilities of a battle TARDIS."

He may have been speaking his mind if one was to judge his tone of voice, but let's face it. How many unique customizations had the Master placed in his own TARDISes before? How many of them do you think had the right amount of weaponry and defense systems to avoid capture by the Time Lords and CIA on so many occassions? If anything he was showing off his own ego, all the while acting like he hadn't said anything at all.

"Granted, my latest TARDIS has put quite a number of others to shame."

That recent TARDIS core of his, the remains of the very TARDIS he used to escape Gallifrey and the Time War once again had its own little secret to it. One that nearly caused the Master to abandon the search for the TARDIS he used most of his lives, previously belonging to another of his victims Chancellor Goth. Right now his latest TARDIS was waiting with the TARDISes of the other Deca members back on the space station. The one next to him in the form of a back-pack however was Goth's. Or rather, it had become his since Goth was disposed of. He figured he'd carry it along with him for this journey instead of the other for nostalgia's sake.

After all, this entire journey they were having now was more or less involved in their past.

"When did I grow such a soft spot," he muttered to himself.

[Deleted]

"Well," The Doctor responded to The Rani, "We weren't going to call ourselves The Prydon Pathfinders, not after you blew up all the star athletes besides Magnus and Maxil, I don't think the former Commander ever forgave you for that by the way, they were having a strong year before you sent everyone to the hospital. Anyway, you sort of forfeit your right to the name after something like that."

The Rani folded her arms and turned her nose up at the Doctor. “Athletics is a useless trait. I was merely doing them a favour”. At least the Doctor was kind enough to mention there was a possible shirt size for her in the TARDIS wardrobe, however useless that information was anyway.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, "And how do you know all this? Practically all of my records around the universe have been deleted." He paused, "She told you, didn't she? Before she died. Oh, she sure loved to cause trouble when she could."

“I have my ways, Doctor”, the Rani began just as the Master decided to cut her off.

The Master rolled his eyes. "'Practically all of my records around the universe have been deleted'," he echoed, mockingly. "And the Matrix was tamper-proof, and the Transduction Barriers could never be breached." A sigh. "Did you really think you could keep us from learning your secrets?"

The Master made sense, as always. There was literally nothing that could stop either he or the Rani from getting what they wanted in terms of information. The Doctor may have had his records deleted around the Universe; but the Rani still had her spies out there.

"She'd regenerated a few times before she gave it to me, but yes, I have a large surplus of regeneration energy. Are you suggesting we use it?"

The Master looked at the Rani with something approaching admiration. "Yes! That would be perfect! And with the new Eye of Harmony that the Meddler plans to build, we wouldn't even need that much! Just enough to, as it were, prime the pump!"

She bowed her head as the Master finished her thoughts. That was exactly what she had in mind. “Very well, lie down; Doctor. We'll begin at once”. The Rani paused for a moment when she recalled another piece of important information that could tug at the Doctor's hearts strings. “Tell me, how is Romana these days?”

[Deleted]

The Meddler had killed any suggestion of changing Millennia's shape, which obviously The War Chief appreciated. He was working on keeping their flight steady while their navigator was otherwise preoccupied. Midflight though,The Chief spoke up again.

"Hey, Meddler," He started, a semi-curious, "What are you going to do when The Doctor inevitably stops you from using Utopia for this little science project? You know how he gets when it comes down to this sort of stuff." There was no doubt in his mind actually, "You'd better have a backup plan."

Jelpax, meanwhile, chose to stick to his duty and not speak up too much, only adding, "It's true, The Doctor probably won't stand for what you plan to do." Vansell offered a quick nod as well, "And, we all know that unless he suddenly stops breathing, getting him to relent is impossible."

[Deleted]

"She'd regenerated a few times before she gave it to me, but yes, I have a large surplus of regeneration energy. Are you suggesting we use it?" The Doctor imagined that it might come in handy if they used some of the extra energies that he'd had, and he wasn't even using that much apparently. And with his old friends, they weren't as quick to call him foolish for doing so, like River had long ago.

The Master looked at the Rani with something approaching admiration. "Yes! That would be perfect! And with the new Eye of Harmony that the Meddler plans to build, we wouldn't even need that much! Just enough to, as it were, prime the pump!"

"Excellent," The Doctor announced, "Now we've got the major issue in place. All we need to do is deal with the Eye of Harmony, and then the Toymaker himself."

She bowed her head as the Master finished her thoughts. That was exactly what she had in mind. “Very well, lie down; Doctor. We'll begin at once”. The Rani paused for a moment when she recalled another piece of important information that could tug at the Doctor's hearts strings. “Tell me, how is Romana these days?”

The Doctor looked to The Rani and said, "You know, when I was about 35, I was dying to hear you say that to me. Funny, how things often change, but sometimes stay the same." He'd jokingly flirted with her before moving into position. That was, until she brought up Romana. And how could she have possibly have known that Romana was around?

"She's busy, in the garden room, told me it might be a day or so before everything there is in tip top shape there. It's best to just let her be."

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

The Meddler half-turned, and looked at Vansell. "We're in a Type 40," he said. "Everything's function is hanging by a thread."

"To you maybe," the Master said, scribbling away.

"Naturally," agreed the Meddler.

"Give it the right and proper amount of maintenance and customizations and you can get any Type 40 or Type 45 to function just as well as a Type 103 or even better than a Mark IV. Or even beyond the capabilities of a battle TARDIS."

The Meddler considered that for a moment. "I don't know about that," the Meddler said, considering his argument carefully. "Better is an entirely relative term. I installed the Mark VII upgrade patches in my Type 67 during the War, and I've made a number of modifications to her functions over the centuries. I know from personal experience that I could use her to, if I felt the need, destroy a solar system. But she's no match for even a Type 99 War TARDIS."

Then he smiled. "But even a 103 can't do fine manipulations in the causal structure of the Anchorheads, or rebraid even a fifth order line of the Web of History. And it would be utterly useless for my purposes, without refitting on a scale nearly impossible outside of the breeding docks."

"Granted," the Master continued, "my latest TARDIS has put quite a number of others to shame."

"Yes, but everyone says that about their ship," the Meddler countered.

"Hey, Meddler," the War Chief interrupted, "What are you going to do when The Doctor inevitably stops you from using Utopia for this little science project? You know how he gets when it comes down to this sort of stuff."

The Meddler looked surprised at the question. "Why," he said, sounding as if the question had never occurred to him, "I suppose I'll get in a shouting match at him. Perhaps call him a soft-hearted fool, and remind him that the Toclafane didn't just torture me to death, but 10% of the population of early 21st century Earth. Quite possibly, old wrongs will be dredged up by both sides, and then we'll find ourselves bickering about William the Bastard and my atomic cannon..."

"You'd better have a backup plan."

"Oh, that's what you meant..."

Jelpax, meanwhile, chose to stick to his duty and not speak up too much, only adding, "It's true, The Doctor probably won't stand for what you plan to do." Vansell offered a quick nod as well, "And, we all know that unless he suddenly stops breathing, getting him to relent is impossible."

"True enough. Well, I suppose that if - when, to be honest - he does, we'll just have to use one of the other black holes of the Degenerate Era."

[Koschei]

"Excellent," The Doctor announced, "Now we've got the major issue in place. All we need to do is deal with the Eye of Harmony, and then the Toymaker himself."

Drax laughed. "I'd forgotten just how easy you make this sound, Doctor." He shook his head. "First, we build a new body without a Loom and reboot a Regeneration cycle, and then we'll replicate one of the treasures of lost Gallifrey and then kick a Power in the nuts."

"You want out, Drax?" asked the Master, voice cold.

"Hell, no," Drax laughed again. "I'm just gonna go scrounge up a spanner and some steel-toed boots." But then he sobered, just a little. "But, I gotta tell you. I'm already outta my depth with all this talk of biodata and such. So I'm gonna sit right here -" he pulled out a chair and plopped down in it "and when the rest of you figure out what you want me to build, I'm on it."

Meanwhile, the Rani had continued to focus on the task at hand. “Very well, lie down; Doctor. We'll begin at once.”

The Doctor looked to The Rani and said, "You know, when I was about 35, I was dying to hear you say that to me. Funny, how things often change, but sometimes stay the same."

The Master ignored the banter, idly sketching out a few initial equations that would govern the conversion of fundamental force into regenerative energies. Drax's boast was no idle one. If you could give him the math, he could build it. If you could describe it in words but not in math, he could probably still buld it.

“Tell me," the Rani asked, her voice a picture of studied casualness, "how is Romana these days?”

Drax looked up in surprise. "What? Lady President Romana survived? I'd heard that Lord Rassilon killed her as a potential rival, after the High Council went rogue and reinstantiated him."

"No." The Master shook his head, doing a better job of hiding his shock. "She was still alive, at least up to the point when the Dalek Emperor captured the Cruciform. I thought she'd been trying to take the Could've-Been King down, but communications were garbled at that point."

"She's busy, in the garden room," the Doctor said, "told me it might be a day or so before everything there is in tip top shape there. It's best to just let her be."

"Seriously?" gaped Drax. "How many of us actually survived?"

"Enough to be dangerous," said the Master.

[Deleted]

As the Doctor moved into position and explained Romana's whereabouts, the Rani was happily applying restraints to his wrists and ankles. She casually leaned forward and whispered into his ear: “I actually enjoy seeing you so vulnerable; Doctor”. She ignored a statement regarding their very early interest in each other. Yanking the leather strap one last time around the Doctor's left wrist, the Rani wandered over to Drax.

“If you're going to boast about it, at least do it. The Master; however, has the honour of flicking the switch”.

”Seriously?” gaped Drax. “How many of us actually survived?”

“Enough to be dangerous”, said the Master.

At that point, the Rani's brow quirked out of curiosity; but she didn't elaborate on the matter further.

[Deleted]

(OOC: Oi, I got skipped! Nah it's all good.)

And then the Meddler gave his own long descriptions to counter his own. The Master had to admit, Meddler had a certain...something about him he always liked. The War Chief too. If it wasn't for his ego and confidence in his own skills, he'd have asked them both to join him bring order to the universe centuries ago. Maybe even the Rani too.

But then again...The Doctor was always the first he'd ask to help him rule the universe. They were close in their childhood. Very close friends. Almost like-

"Yes, but everyone says that about their ship," the Meddler countered.

The Master paused in his calculations and turned to look at the Meddler. "Yes. But-Oh no wait wait wait wait wait." He held a closed hand up to his lip to stop. "I'd spoil the surprise."

"Hey, Meddler," the War Chief interrupted, "What are you going to do when The Doctor inevitably stops you from using Utopia for this little science project? You know how he gets when it comes down to this sort of stuff."

The Meddler looked surprised at the question. "Why," he said, sounding as if the question had never occurred to him, "I suppose I'll get in a shouting match at him. Perhaps call him a soft-hearted fool, and remind him that the Toclafane didn't just torture me to death, but 10% of the population of early 21st century Earth. Quite possibly, old wrongs will be dredged up by both sides, and then we'll find ourselves bickering about William the Bastard and my atomic cannon..."

"You'd better have a backup plan."

"Oh, that's what you meant..."

Jelpax, meanwhile, chose to stick to his duty and not speak up too much, only adding, "It's true, The Doctor probably won't stand for what you plan to do." Vansell offered a quick nod as well, "And, we all know that unless he suddenly stops breathing, getting him to relent is impossible."

"True enough. Well, I suppose that if - when, to be honest - he does, we'll just have to use one of the other black holes of the Degenerate Era."

The Master merely smiled at the mere mention of his handiwork. He gave the...Cannibalized pretty child-like humans of Utopia a new name, the Toclafane, which of course he stole from the Gallifreyan fairy tales, and then the Paradox.

Did the Meddler vote Saxon during the election that year? He let out a hardy laugh at how well he cheated that election.

After a few more minutes of writing down the calculations, he placed the pen down and crossed his arms behind his head.

"Oi! I'm done on my end," he announced to everyone in the console room.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, a big grin on his face at his own ego, his own success already done.

"Oh, and Meddler. Do me a favor," he began waving a hand to him. "Don't harm the Toclafane too much. They are my children after all."

He hasn't given up on using them yet.

[Deleted]

Once The Meddler explained to him that there would be other places they could use to substitute for the new Eye of Harmony, he let the subject drop on his end. The Doctor wouldn't stop them if the star wasn't affecting anywhere else.

"Yeah, that's great and all, let's just not get all ten of us stuck in the Anti-Matter Universe, eh?"

"Oi! I'm done on my end," he announced to everyone in the console room.

"What do you want?" Chief looked up at The Master as he announced completion of his work, "A cookie? Get over here and help us pilot the TARDIS then. This old thing needs six pilots, I don't know how The Doctor's been flying solo for so long."

"Oh, and Meddler. Do me a favor," he began waving a hand to him. "Don't harm the Toclafane too much. They are my children after all."

A sigh, "Your children?" The War Chief rolled his eyes again before saying, "You would consider those wretched things your children, wouldn't you?" He looked to The Meddler, "I'm not humanity's number one fan either, but c'mon, weird heads in weaponized cases, sound familiar to anyone else?"

Jelpax tried to be reasonable, "Oh, come on now Magnus, they're still the last of the human beings, not very kind of you to call them Daleks."

Vansell was much more cut and dry about it, "But that's what they are now, a destroyed, altered race, driven insane." He looked at The Master and asked, "Did you have tea with Davros? Trade tips?"

[Deleted]

“I actually enjoy seeing you so vulnerable; Doctor”.

The Doctor chuckled a bit before saying, "What's with all the flirting today Rani? Does this regeneration have a bad case of the love bug? No wonder you avoided regenerating as long as you could Dear." The leather straps were making The Doctor nervous, and when The Doctor is nervous, the nonstop talking began.

“If you're going to boast about it, at least do it. The Master; however, has the honour of flicking the switch”.

"Oi! Don't make it sound so, lethal, aye?"

The conversation turned to Romana.

”Seriously?” gaped Drax. “How many of us actually survived?”

“Enough to be dangerous”, said the Master.

"There's her, the ten of us are probably the oldest ones alive. And a bunch of oddball no-names that never really did all that much on Gallifrey. I'd say maybe, twenty of us? No more than twenty five."

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

"True enough," the Meddler agreed with a sigh. "Well, I suppose that if - when, to be honest - he does, we'll just have to use one of the other black holes of the Degenerate Era."

The War Chief gave him a long, hard look. "Yeah, that's great and all, let's just not get all ten of us stuck in the Anti-Matter Universe, eh?"

That prompted a laugh from the Meddler. "No fear of that. The one we'll be installing in the Doctor's TARDIS will be the third I've crafted, and the second I've made since the end of the War." He spread his arms and turned - mildly disorienting to Time Lord senses, with no visible historical shadow - as if showing himself off. "See? No antimatter."

He paused. "In truth, neither of the two I've made are as efficent as the original. They generate less than a tenth the power of the true Eye." A shrug. "But, even at that, that's far more power than a single TARDIS could ever draw."

With that, the Meddler turned to his own calculations: elegant Gallifreyan calligraphy on a vast sheet of paper. "I'll want to consult with the Artificer, of course," he said, absently, as he worked. "There's an uncomfortable power fluctuation in Suicide Jack, and I'd like to see how he'd resolve it. Both for our own comfort on this trip, and for my future use."

"Oi! I'm done on my end," the Master announced to everyone in the console room.

"What do you want?" replied the War Chief. "A cookie?"

"Rulership of the Spiral Politic, was always my understanding," the Meddler said, not bothering to look up from his work. "From a throne made of the gilded skulls of the High Council, although I've always thought that would be tasteless."

He waited a beat.

"Personally, I'd be satisfied with Councilor Xandavier crucified on the prow of my TARDIS, so he can scream his agonies into the Vortex for eternity." He sketched in another glyph. "Maybe Councilor Emmehujidat as well. But, I know for a fact that he didn't survive the War."

"Oh, and Meddler. Do me a favor," the Master began waving a hand to him. "Don't harm the Toclafane too much. They are my children after all."

"Oh, I don't know that I was planning to harm them, Master," the Meddler said, absently. "More likely, once I untangle the mathematical complexeties of taking an action that also impinges on the personal history of three different Time Lords, I'll just retrocausally unmake them."

He began to sketch out another glyph. "Of course, I am carrying a grudge against them. Being done to death by torture has that effect."

A sigh, "Your children?" The War Chief rolled his eyes again before saying, "You would consider those wretched things your children, wouldn't you?" He looked to The Meddler, "I'm not humanity's number one fan either, but c'mon, weird heads in weaponized cases, sound familiar to anyone else?"

"Familiar? Somewhat, yes." The Meddler shrugged.

Jelpax tried to be reasonable, "Oh, come on now Magnus, they're still the last of the human beings, not very kind of you to call them Daleks."

The Meddler sighed. "The Daleks were hardly the only species of once-Gallifreyoids now reduced to living inside armored shells for survival."

Vansell was much more cut and dry about it, "But that's what they are now, a destroyed, altered race, driven insane." He looked at The Master and asked, "Did you have tea with Davros? Trade tips?"

"Whatever method he used, Vansell," the Meddler said amiably, painting another glyph, "I can assure you that it wasn't by riding the coattails of his more successful peers. Or by cowering in the Citadel, manipulating and persecuting his one-time friends at the orders of the the High Council."

He laid the brush down, and half turned to stare at the former Coordinator of the CIA. "Tell me... did you receive 30 pieces of silver for your work? Or simply a pat on the head and a treat?"

[Koschei]

“If you're going to boast about it, at least do it. The Master; however, has the honour of flicking the switch.”

"Ah, Rani," the Master said lightly, a sardonic smile on his face. "I've no interest in the Doctor's switch."

With that her rose, tossing Drax the equations he'd drawn out. They were from memory, not new creations, so they hadn't taken long.

Drax whistled. "Don't muck about much, do you Master?"

"No."

"I mean... hang on, what's this symbol..." Drax's eyes flickered over the data slate. "Survival is a logarathmic equation?"

"Precisely," the Master said. "It has to do with strength of will - defined there as the first derivitive of the standard formula for the mental component of the biodatic wave function."

"Yeah, yeah, I see that." Drax looked up. "This is nuts."

"It works."

"How do you know?"

"I've used it. On myself."

Silence, then Drax shrugged. "Fair enough."

Then the news of Lady President Romana's survival caught them all off guard.

"Seriously?" gaped Drax. "How many of us actually survived?"

"Enough to be dangerous," said the Master.

"There's her, the ten of us are probably the oldest ones alive. And a bunch of oddball no-names that never really did all that much on Gallifrey. I'd say maybe, twenty of us? No more than twenty five."

Standing by the switch, the Master considered that. "Hmmm... I assume we're ignoring the few that have been born since the end of the War? Such as the Meddler's... family?" He said the last word as if he couldn't believe he was saying it. "Outside of the eight of us, I can only think of some six or seven others. My apprentice..."

"You have an apprentice?" Drax interrupted.

"Silence. That young fool that calls himself the Architect. The Specialist - yes Drax, that Specialist..."

"I wasn't sayin' nothing," he protested.

"Of course you weren't. The Mentalist - who has been blissfully silent for some time now - and his leash-holder the Psychologist. The Archivist..."

"Seriously?" Drax looked up, eyes flicking ot the Doctor. "You mean..."

"Ancient history," the Master said. He chuckled. "At least, in his opinion. But I haven't seen her or the Specialist in some time now." He thought for a moment. "Oh, and Lord Xandavier."

"Really?" Something dangerous glittered in Drax's eyes. "Can we kill him?"

"All in due time, and I believe you'll have to line up behind the Meddler." He looked at the Rani, and then at the Doctor. "But, I believe I am woolgathering, Rani. Shall we begin draining the Doctor's vital essence?"

[Deleted]

"Oi! I'm done on my end," he announced to everyone in the console room.

"What do you want?" Chief looked up at The Master as he announced completion of his work, "A cookie? Get over here and help us pilot the TARDIS then. This old thing needs six pilots, I don't know how The Doctor's been flying solo for so long."

"Rulership of the Spiral Politic, was always my understanding," the Meddler said, not bothering to look up from his work. "From a throne made of the gilded skulls of the High Council, although I've always thought that would be tasteless."

"Eh...I'd argue I did sorta want that during the later half of my 12th regeneration," the Master admitted. "Granted there was a lot messed up with me then. I was a dying hunk of flesh back then."

"Personally, I'd be satisfied with Councilor Xandavier crucified on the prow of my TARDIS, so he can scream his agonies into the Vortex for eternity." He sketched in another glyph. "Maybe Councilor Emmehujidat as well. But, I know for a fact that he didn't survive the War."

"It's really not that hard to do. I've even piloted this thing on multiple occasions, Warchief," the Master said as he climbed the stairs back onto the console's platform. "Oh, and Meddler. Do me a favor," he began waving a hand to him. "Don't harm the Toclafane too much. They are my children after all."

"Oh, I don't know that I was planning to harm them, Master," the Meddler said, absently. "More likely, once I untangle the mathematical complexeties of taking an action that also impinges on the personal history of three different Time Lords, I'll just retrocausally unmake them."

He began to sketch out another glyph. "Of course, I am carrying a grudge against them. Being done to death by torture has that effect."

A sigh, "Your children?" The War Chief rolled his eyes again before saying, "You would consider those wretched things your children, wouldn't you?" He looked to The Meddler, "I'm not humanity's number one fan either, but c'mon, weird heads in weaponized cases, sound familiar to anyone else?"

"Familiar? Somewhat, yes." The Meddler shrugged.

Jelpax tried to be reasonable, "Oh, come on now Magnus, they're still the last of the human beings, not very kind of you to call them Daleks."

The Meddler sighed. "The Daleks were hardly the only species of once-Gallifreyoids now reduced to living inside armored shells for survival."

Vansell was much more cut and dry about it, "But that's what they are now, a destroyed, altered race, driven insane." He looked at The Master and asked, "Did you have tea with Davros? Trade tips?"

"Whatever method he used, Vansell," the Meddler said amiably, painting another glyph, "I can assure you that it wasn't by riding the coattails of his more successful peers. Or by cowering in the Citadel, manipulating and persecuting his one-time friends at the orders of the the High Council."

He laid the brush down, and half turned to stare at the former Coordinator of the CIA. "Tell me... did you receive 30 pieces of silver for your work? Or simply a pat on the head and a treat?"

The Master stopped with his childish attitude for a moment and took a long hard look at Meddler. A long, hard, serious look.

"How do you remember all the torture I caused the Earthlings with the Toclafane, Meddler?" the Master asked, highly skeptical. "I don't remember you being on board the Valiant. Anyone not in the eye of the storm or within the Time Vortex would've forgotten the events of 'The Year that never happened.'" He drummed his fingers on the railing for a second. The familiar pattern 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4. Old habits are hard to break after all.

[Deleted]

As the Doctor taunted her so called flirtatious regeneration, the Rani tugged on the Doctor's ankle strap a little tighter. “Doctor, when it comes to anything of a lethal nature, I generally enjoy mothering it”. She stepped aside from him and started to work on the controls, hearing the background chatter in regards to who survived the Time War really payed no interest to her.

It was just a pity that they did survive, well. That select few anyway.

Finally the Master asked the Rani if they were ready, and she turned to him with a quick nod. “Yes, you may pull the lever, Master”.

This was going to be interesting. The Rani turned from the controls to face the Doctor, and she made a mental report which would be filed away for future use. Perhaps with the right sort of modifications she could end up reversing the affect, allowing the Time Lord to degenerate. It was something she'd have to experiment on herself at a later time. This body was incredibly... pathetic.

“You might feel a tingling sensation, Doctor”. A smirk followed. “Nothing you're not used to by now”.

[Deleted]

The War Chief, Vansell and Jelpax all maintained the controls. As everyone in the room knew, the more pilots there were, the easier it was to pilot a Type 40, the old girl required these many at her console. The Master was talking, and tapping now. Chief gave him a perplexed look.

"Hey, uh, Koschei, your crazy is showing, mind taking that down a notch or three? You know the same level of madness as the rest of us, eh?"

Vansell wasn't quite as amused, but he remained silent on the subject. Instead focusing on keeping the ship steady. That was, when The Doctor let out an agonized cry from another room, "Well, it's good to know that the other group is being productive."

Jelpax didn't like the sounds coming from that direction, "Was it wise to send The Doctor with The Rani and one of The Masters? I think the two of them have taken few of his lives. And he their's."