Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Eleven: Mortal Combat

The leader of the aliens strides towards us. It removes its mask, revealing a face like muscles, blood pink and marked with faint lines. It hisses, shaking a cane decorated with bone charms that rattle with each movement.

"Vos koonik," the leader growls, "del panja zu krimit tak saya. Vol, kufa zu prendis."

Harriet's assistant looks down at his small translator and reads aloud, "'The yellow girl. She has the clever blue box. Therefore, she speaks for your planet'."

My eyes widen and I try to hold onto Rose's hand. The Prime Minister hurriedly shakes her head. "But she can't."

"Yeah, I can. Someone's got to be the Doctor."

"I'll do it, Rose. I've got much less to lose. If they kill you—"

"That never stopped him."

I watch in fear as she shrugs Harriet and I away, stepping forwards. More cheers ring out from the alien spectators.

"I— I, um— I address the Sycorax... according to Article 15 of the Shadow Proclamation. I command you to leave this world, with all the authority of... the Slitheen Parliament of Raxacoricofallapatorius and, um, the Gelth Confederacy and the High Concilio of Capitis, as sanctioned by the Mighty Jagrafess and... ooh, the Daleks! Now leave this planet in peace!"

For a moment, it almost seems like she has managed to convince them. But then a noise echoes throughout the ship; a scratching, scraping, snickering racket.

"Zu gan gan frak jil ay. Zu gan chak chifuki!"

"'You are very, very funny. And now you're going to die'."

Yelling angrily, I kick the Sycorax guard that restrains me. It does nothing. These creatures are strong, even more so than me.

The leader sneers at the rest of us. "Zu gas gil fayna..."

"'Did you think you were clever with your stolen words?'"

"Gora ve Sycorax!"

"'We are the Sycorax. We stride the darkness. Next to us, you are but a wailing child. If you are the best your planet can offer as a champion...'"

"Then your world will be gutted and your people enslaved."

"'Then your world will be gutted and your people enslaved'." Pausing, the assistant frowns. He looks to us as if to confirm. "Hold on, that's English."

I nodd and tilt my head slightly, watching the leader with interest. "You're speaking English."

Its angry glare zeroes in on me. "I would never dirty my tongue with your primitive bile!"

Rose points at him, slowly backing away. "But that's English! Can you hear English?"

"Yeah, definitely English."

"I speak only Sycoraxic!"

I can feel the hope rapidly rising in my chest, bubbling and spreading until a relieved grin tugs at my lips. "The Tardis, it's translating. That means..."

I hear a quiet creak from behind us, one of the few most wonderful sounds I have ever heard in my life. And there he is, the Doctor. He smiles, his eyes immediately meeting mine. "Did you miss me?"

Letting out a furious roar, the leader lashes out at him with a whip that flashes with electricity. The Doctor catches it easily. "You could have someone's eye out with that."

"How dare—"

He intercepts the cane next, breaking it in two over his knee. My eyes widen, watching in astonishment as he tosses it aside.