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Gained in Translation
Author: B.K. Willis
Rating: G
Summary: While the TARDIS translator is broken, the Doctor and Tegan get a rare musical treat.
Just for a change of pace, here is a nice little story which doesn't contain any homicidal maniacs, perverts, or heavily-armed fanatics with bad fashion sense.
Copyright Disclaimer: It's all the Beeb's. Every last bit. Except for the Rain Room, which is someone else's. I am just misusing their property for a bit.

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"So, how long until this translator-thingamabob is patched up?"

"Not long, Tegan," said the Doctor for the third time that day. "As I've been telling you, it just needs time to recalibrate. I've already done the 'patching up', as you call it. We'll just have to wait."

Tegan frowned. The TARDIS translation system had failed shortly after breakfast. At least they weren't on some alien planet at the time, or things would have gotten awkward fast. As it was, she and the Doctor could both speak English, but Nyssa only spoke Traken and some related languages, none of which the Doctor knew.

Thus, they had come to an unusual situation, a sort of role-reversal. Now it was _Tegan_ who helped the Doctor with the technical work, what little she could, while _Nyssa_ sat in the Rain Room brooding because no-one understood her.

"But, I mean," Tegan began again, "are we talking hours, or days, or--"

The Doctor stopped in the middle of the corridor and raised his hand for silence.

"There's no need to be rude," she angrily declared.

"Tegan! Hush and listen, will you?"

From several doors down, came a strange sound, one that Tegan had never heard. She listened, entranced by the curious melody.

"...Ki de paalkureytah u ki de alshi...

...Ki arasha pir treth u ki ken pir yi..."

"Is that... Nyssa? Singing?" Tegan whispered.

The Doctor nodded and motioned for her to follow.

"...Ki sothu kai paal, ki ahn kora, ki beha akarah...

...Soh tihra ki be ahleyn, u ahn jiah leth vo trah..."

She had never had any idea that Nyssa could sing. The girl's voice was haunting, and the alien melody seemed to beg to be sung along with.

"Doctor, what's that she's singing?" The Doctor glanced irritatedly back. "If I could speak Traken, we wouldn't be having this conversation, hmm?"

Tegan scowled.

"...Ki de paalkureytah u ki de alshi...

...Ki arasha pir treth u ki ken pir yi..."

The two crept silently to the Rain Room door and peeked inside. Nyssa was curled up in one of the overstuffed chairs, paging idly through a book of Patrick Woodroffe paintings. She looked a bit strange to Tegan, and it took a moment for her to realize that she'd never seen the little Trakenite so idle before. Always, she seemed to be working at something, always preparing for things, always focusing on some problem. But now, she just seemed to be in a pleasant reverie of some sort.

"...Ki sothu kai paal, ki ghin u sah, ki aaku bu saktir...

...Ki akra luhssia parkta u toktirra ha trenonjir..."

Tegan felt the gentle melody wash over her and found herself think- ing of her family's farm, of mornings spent watching the sunrise with her father, of her first boyfriend. Though she didn't understand a word, somehow the song just had to be about home and hearth and growing up. The music, if not the words, carried a message of nos- talgia and sweet memories and old times gone but not forgotten.

She looked up at the Doctor, and saw that his eyes were distant and dreaming. He did not appear to notice that a slight moistness on his cheek from a single tear that trickled slowly to his lips. She won- dered who he was thinking of. That Romana he spoke of sometimes? His Granddaughter? Someone else long left behind?

"...Ki de paalkureytah u ki de alshi...

...Ki arasha pir treth u ki ken pir yi..."

Tegan stood torn. On the one hand, she longed to hear more of that gentle, faintly melancholy song, but she felt like an intruder on what was obviously a very private moment for her friend. Her mind was made up for her a moment later by the Doctor pulling the door quietly shut.

She looked at him questioningly as he swiped the tear off his cheek and took her gently by the shoulder.

"Come on," he whispered, a soft and slightly sad smile on his decep- tively young face. "Let's go have a spot of tea, shall we?"

"...Ki sothu kai paal, ki akra ishahn, las hir, u dashat...

...Ki umir ki de luhssia, ulaman ki dehesh narat..."

As they walked away arm-in-arm, the sweet, sad melody followed after like the memory of simpler times.

----

Nyssa turned the page and smiled slightly at the painting of a man rowing a barrel across the sky. Sometimes, it was nice to relax and just do nothing of any consequence. At least for now, she had an excuse to justify her inactivity. It would be nice to be able to speak to people again, but for the moment she rather enjoyed the feeling of having nothing to do and plenty of time to not do it in.

Almost unconsciously, she started the song over again. It was a simple but addictive little tune that served to fill the silent air, and almost sung itself. A pleasantly nonsensical diversion.

"...I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay...

...I sleep all night and I work all day..."