"To arrive, of course," the Master snaps, ignoring the second question with all the arrogance typical of high officials among their people. "We've been waiting here for months; we had been sure that the High Council would send someone earlier. Did it really take you that long to find the place? We would have thought that was easy, given the temporal anomalies and the quantum flux."

He had almost forgotten to speak in Gallifreyan when he walked up. And it feels so strange now, like swallowing something with a familiar yet uncomfortable taste. He and the Doctor hadn't been using it at all, of course, though they hadn't discussed it. Simply left it off, one less thing to worry over, since the Doctor's TARDIS no longer translated it. –no reason to translate a dead language–

It's fine, though. They can pull this off. He doesn't even look back to check on the Doctor, lest it set him off.