I've seen you, Doctor, savoir of worlds.

I saw the silver stream-lined spaceship storm down from the sky on Christmas day.

I've heard the stories of your victories, defeating the invaders of earth with little more than words.

Slitheen on Downing Street, Silurians under the Earth: you forced them all to stand down without so much as raising a weapon against them.

I want to help you, come home with the sand of alien planets in my shoes after fighting for my life against monsters.

I want to be scared in the dark unknown, but feel my bravery stand beside me when I rescue someone helpless.

I know your brag sheet is quite impressive; how else would you earn the name "The Oncoming Storm?"

But mine is not short either.

I was raised by the Silents, trained to be the tool of your downfall, trouble-chaser.

I'm a skilled and stealthy shooter, competent with any firearm you hand me.

I broke out of many oppressive prisons before I was even 16; I didn't even need a weapon for that.

Quite bluntly put, I'm clever.

You think you're always the smartest person in the room. You are, when I'm not in the room.

I once convinced one of my guards that it was his idea to release me from my cell, even when his punishment for misbehaving could've been death.

I'm a master at diverting and conducting attention; people will think what I want them to think.

I fought horrible creatures, defended the Earth and several other planets I've ended up on, all without your help.

I've helped save people and planets that you were too busy to even know were in danger.

I was a member of UNIT for some time when I was young, saving Earth from evil souls.

If you still doubt my courage, and I doubt your intelligence now if you do, then consider my parents.

After all, you already know them; they were your companions on adventures at one time, as I hope to be now.

My father, the Roman soldier who waited 2,000 years for love, taught me the meaning of bravery and the value of the heart.

My mother, the fiery-haired Scott who took on an army of robots on her without batting an eye, handed down confidence and a stunningly strong sense of self.

I know you're reluctant to whisk people away to far stars now, scared taking them with you will endanger them; your old age has made you a cynical worrier.

But I can assure you that whatever I have to face will not daunt me, as I've seen worse already.

Three-eyed aliens do not scare me.

Anything I had to do to save myself or others will not harm my psyche; I won't let it.

I was taken from my mother as a baby, conditioned with one purpose- to kill you.

I don't want to kill you; I just want to help you.

And after all, if anyone can keep up with a powerful man, it's his assassin turned wife.