Everyone is hanging on to the console.
"What the hell's it doing?" Donna asks.
"The control's not working!" I say, I get thrown about and get a look at the jar at the base of the time rotor.
"I don't know where we're going, but my old hand's very excited about it" I say.
"I thought that was just some freaky alien thing. You telling me it's yours?" Donna asks.
"Well."
"It got cut off. She grew a new one" Martha says.
You are completely impossible, both of you" Donna says nodding at the Doctor and me.
"Not impossible. Just a bit unlikely" I say, there's a bang, and sparks, then stillness and peace. The Doctor and I run outside, it looks like a junk yard in a railway arch at night, Martha and Donna walk out after us.
"Why would the TARDIS bring us here, then?" I ask looking around.
"Oh, I love this bit" Martha says.
"I thought you wanted to go home" Donna says.
"I know, but all the same, it's that feeling you get."
"Like you swallowed a hamster?"
"Don't move! Stay where you are! Drop your weapons" a few men are pointing rifles at us, so we raise our hands.
"We're unarmed. Look, no weapons. Never any weapons. We're safe" the Doctor says.
"Look at their hands. They're clean."
"All right, process them. Those two first" the man says pointing to the Doctor and me, soldiers take us by the arms.
"Oi, oi. What's wrong with clean hands?" I ask.
"What's going on?" Martha asks, the two of us are taken to a set of machines and our right arms are pushed inside us.
"Leave them alone" Donna says, something inside grabs our arms.
"Something tells me this isn't about to check our blood pressure. Argh!" The Doctor and I groan clearly in pain.
"What are you doing to them?"
"Everyone gets processed."
"It's taken a tissue sample. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. And extrapolated it. Some kind of accelerator?" I say, as the Doctor and I are released.
"Are you two all right?" Martha asks as she grabs our right hands to see a graze on the back of our hands.
"What on earth? That's just..." the Doctor trails off, as a pair of glass and metal doors open and a figure steps out from the steam of the brightly lit interior. She is a skinny blonde woman in combat boots and trousers, and a khaki t-shirt.
"Arm yourself" the man hands the newcomer a rifle.
"Where did she come from?" Martha asks, the Doctor and I stare at the young female in front of us.
"From us" the Doctor says.
"From you two? How? Who is she?" Donna asks as the woman checks the rifle is ready for use.
"Well, she's, well, she's our daughter" I say, the women turns and smiles.
"Hello, Mum, Dad."
"You primed to take orders? Ready to fight?" The soldier asks.
"Instant mental download of all strategic and military protocols, sir. Generation five thousand soldier primed and in peak physical health. Oh, I'm ready" she takes her place with the soldiers at a barricade.
