taxonomites | [Holo] Arrival Post

The last thing he clearly remembered was the gunfire, the sheer racket it was all making as they made a break for it. Tyler was just across from him, so close and the only one to back them up. Should have known the useless sod couldn’t make a shot if his life depended on it. That was if he even wanted to make the shot, anyway, he honestly has no idea what was going on. Sam had betrayed them, wonder that, just what he needed to deal with during a shootout. He was sure he’d been shot himself, he felt that flare of pain but he couldn’t feel it any more, he couldn’t hear his team, he was pretty sure he was blacking out. Well that was rubbish, what good would that do anyone?

Opening his eyes, it took him a few moments to full wake himself up. He never expected to see such a bizarre setting around him when he finally did, it was like one of those poncy sci-fis but without the rubbish tin foil and card board sets. Everything looked real, he was almost afraid to touch anything. Almost being the keyword here, he was happy enough to stomp around like a bull in a china shop, as always, trying to get a better look at the weird device on the ceiling before backing up as slow as he could. This made no sense and he honestly didn’t want to know. He just wanted out.

“Bollocks. I’m dead, aren’t I?” So much for dying in the boozer like he’d always dreamed. Ah well, win some, lose some. This was either a very vivid hallucination or he was dead, there was no way this was real. Perhaps he was just tripping the light fantastic? “What is-- Tyler?!"

When something weird was occurring, it was bound to have something to do his not-so-right in the head DI. This was the polite way of putting it, really. Sam Tyler was the master of weirdy things.

Checking his pockets, he couldn’t feel the outline of his gun anywhere. That was not good, none of this was-- and what the hell was on his wrist? It looked like some awful jewellery a prozzie got on the cheap to try and dress herself up a bit. Lovely. And it wouldn’t come off, of course, that was the crowning touch. “If this really is the afterlife… I hope you know I’m bloody disappointed! No pearly gates? Bloody great, that is.”

Looking across at the small device thingy on the side, Gene didn’t dare make a move closer. He’d never seen anything like that before. His first instinct was to attack but there was nothing to attack. So he was just going to stick to yelling like he always did. Just to regain some power here, if that was at all possible.

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"I'll meet you outside," she said, "Just pick up the tablet and follow the corridor."

Her surgery was only a short distance from the Sanctuary. She'd be standing at the main entrance by the time he made it outside.

Following the instructions, he followed down the corridor till he finally saw some signs of life. This place was weird, not exactly normal to be in and the very sight of another person who looked remotely human was good enough for him. And not a bad bit of skirt either, not his type but he was a bloke, he had a healthy appreciation of anything good looking.

"This is utter bollocks still."

"You'll get used to it."

Martha, wearing a white doctor's coat over her pinstriped suit, stepped over to join him, holding out her hand.

"Welcome to Taxon."

Since when did birds shake hands? Raising an eyebrow, Gene took her hand and shook it, looking over the white Doctors coat with equal confusion. Women weren't often that high up in position where he came from. Especially not when of that colour and that young.

"Taxon? Never heard of it but I never much bothered with geography, s'all the same. What are you anyway? Mad scientist?"

Welcome to the 21st century, Gene.

"I don't think geography lessons would help," she replied, "Wherever Taxon is, it definitely isn't on Earth."

Martha, on the other hand, had an excellent knowledge of geography. She walked across the whole planet during the year that never was.

"I'm a doctor. We've got a mad scientist in the city, but she's generally too busy to greet the new arrivals."

"So we're not even on Earth?"

Bollocks. That was definitely what he'd guessed before. Weirdy sci-fi rubbish, the kind of stuff he didn't even like to watch on TV and he was sucked into one now? Couldn't of been a good western or something?

"You're a Doctor? Don't you mean nurse?"

Since when were women Doctors? If he wanted to go see someone about an illness, he wanted some old decrypted bloke, not some women who was probably more interesting in getting dolled up.

"No, I mean doctor," she said, firmly. She'd heard that tone before. When they'd been stranded in the 1960s, she'd been forced to work in a little ship to support the Doctor and had been laughed at whenever she'd mentioned her hopes of becoming a doctor. Never mind that she'd only been a few exams from earning her certificate. She wasn't the right sort of person - the right sex or the right colour - to become a doctor, according to them.

Her reply was curt, but not impolite. Yet.

"There are a lot of female doctors in the 21st century," she added, trying to guess when he was from. Not that far into the past, judging by his outfit.

"Blimey? God, I hope I'm in my grave by then," Pausing, he gave Martha a small look. Well, he should really mind his manners, she was showing him around. He could at least humour her. Like most women, you just had to pretend to be interested and nod along to whatever the hell they were saying.

"No offence, just weird is all. No where near as odd as this-- though not far behind. Don't tell me the bloody countries run by women as well?"

Did they rise up and take over? Like a horror story come to life.

Was that a joke?

No, that wasn't a joke.

She bit back a comment about why he'd almost certainly end up in an early grave with an attitude like that and settled for shaking her head.

"I didn't realise the aliens were starting to bring neanderthals to the city," she said, dryly, before adding: "Some of them are. It depends the decade. When are you from, exactly?"

Ah, there it was. Even miss Doctor here got offended by the simplest comment. It was worse than his missus, couldn't say anything. If you lie, they complained and if you told the truth, same thing happened.

"1973, Manchester."

Christ, he was really dreading the future now. Women getting all uppity about their new careers and all this equality rubbish.

Ruddy bleeding-heart liberals.

"2009, London," Martha replied. There was no way of softening the blow. If he was going to fit in here, he'd have to learn to get used to fact that a large number of the people in the city were from his future.

"2009?" Gene tilted his head to the side, silently contemplating such a future before remember Sams claims that he came from 2006. Perhaps he was an alien or something?-- Oddly enough, it made sense. "Huh... do you have flying cars yet? Like in those shows where they're all in ships in the future?"

"No flying cars," she said with a smile, "But we do have space stations and flying fortresses."

The Valiant was something for the human race to be proud of, despite the atrocities that Saxon had originally used it to commit. It was theirs now. He was long gone.

Except in Taxon.

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